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Emiya Kiritsugu was filled with ideals more than anyone else and, therefore, felt despair more deeply than anyone else.
His dream was simple.
He wished for the happiness of every person in the world, always holding that hope deep in his heart.
It was a dream that every young person had once dreamed of, but after realizing the cruelty of reality, they would give up and abandon such naive ideals.
All forms of happiness require sacrifice as a price. Every child learns this simple truth as they grow up.
But this man was different.
Perhaps he was more foolish than anyone else, or maybe there was something wrong with his mind. It could even be because he possessed a transcendent destiny that defied common sense, something that even those called saints might not have.
When he understood that all life in this world is balanced on the scales of "sacrifice" and "redemption," and that it was impossible to leave one side empty...
From that day on, he resolved to become the master of those scales.
If he wanted to genuinely and effectively reduce the sorrows and lamentations of the world, there was only one method.
Even if it meant sacrificing the few to save the many, even if there was only one person.
This is the act of killing a minority of people to ensure the survival of the majority.
Because the more he saves, the more adept he becomes at the art of slaughter.
His hands are stained with layer after layer of blood, yet he never flinches in fear.
Regardless of whether the means are just or unjust, regardless of whether the ends are right or wrong.
The man only seeks to become an impartial and selfless scale.
He will never misjudge the value of life.
A life knows no distinction of rank, age, or worth—it is simply a quantifiable unit.
The man saves lives indiscriminately, but he also continues to kill.
However, when he realizes this, it is already too late.
To equally cherish all lives also means to have no love for anyone.
If he had engraved this iron rule in his heart earlier, perhaps there would have been a chance for redemption.
If he had frozen his young heart earlier, allowing it to wither and turn himself into an emotionless measuring machine, perhaps he could have spent his life coldly choosing between the living and the dead, without the need for anguish.
But this man is different.
The smiles of others bring satisfaction to his soul; the voices of others in pain shake his spirit.
When he sees others suffering injustice without recourse, he accompanies them in anger. When he sees someone shedding lonely tears, he can't help but reach out to wipe them away.
Although he pursues dreams that transcend the norms of the world, he still retains much of his humanity.
Countless times, this contradiction torments the man.
Sometimes it is friendship, sometimes it is love.
Even if he places the life he deeply loves alongside countless other unfamiliar lives on the scales, he will not make a mistake—ever since he woke up from the nightmare of losing the person he admired in his youth, he has never made a mistake again.
Because he loves someone, he will treat that person's life as equal to others, cherishing it in the same way and willing to sacrifice it just the same.
He always encounters important people again and again, only to lose them repeatedly.
The father who raised him.
The stepmother who accompanied him during his youth.
And then, there was his beloved wife.
He had long known that he would lose her. His dream was too distant, beyond what humanity alone could achieve. If it were to be realized, it could only be entrusted to the "miracle" known as the "All-Powerful Wish-Granting Machine." But to fulfill this miracle, a sacrifice must be made, and that sacrifice was his wife. This was something they had both known since they first met nine years ago.
He had wavered, regretted, and suffered, but compared to the happiness of all humanity, these struggles seemed insignificant.
He believed so firmly in this, so when he heard that the "miracle" that could fulfill his dream had already been shattered, he was on the brink of collapse. Yet, he clung to a last glimmer of hope, hoping that everyone was deceiving him, hoping that they had made a mistake.
With this thought in mind, he plunged into the contents overflowing from the "Holy Grail."
In a state of blurred consciousness and shifting vision, he saw a dream.
In the dream, his wife was by his side, leaning against him with a gentle smile, standing with him atop a mountain of corpses.
"I knew you would come. I believe you can reach this place."
"Iri—no, who are you? Where is this place?"
Although the woman before him looked exactly like his wife, he knew that she wasn't his wife.
Not only was the woman wearing black clothes that his wife had never worn, but her demeanor was also completely different from his wife's.
"This is the place where your wishes come true, the inner side of the Holy Grail you have been seeking," the woman replied cheerfully.
The man was left speechless, looking around.
The black, decaying mud resembled a restless sea.
Everywhere were small hills made of decaying corpses, slowly sinking into the sea of black mud.
The sky was red, a crimson that resembled blood. Amidst the black mud rain, a pitch-black sun supported this sky.
The wind that blew carried curses and moans.
If one were to metaphorically describe it, wasn't this... hell?
"You mean... this is the Holy Grail?" Kiritsugu asked.
"Yes. But don't be afraid because this is like an intangible illusionary dream, just waiting for the moment of birth," the woman replied, pointing to the sky, and signaling to him.
Kiritsugu mistakenly thought it was the sun, but in the center of the rotating black world in the sky, there was a "hole" opened in the heavens. The hole was filled with endless profound darkness, a supermassive entity that seemed capable of crushing everything.
"That is the true Holy Grail. Although it doesn't have a physical form yet, the entire vessel is already full. Now all you have to do is state your wish. Regardless of the wish received, it will choose the appropriate form to fulfill it. Only after obtaining a physical form in this way can it go 'outside.'"
"..."
"Come on, please give it a 'form' quickly. You are the one who has the qualifications to bestow it with ideas. Tell your wish to the Holy Grail."
Kiritsugu gazed at the terrifying "hole." Ordinary humans would never be able to tolerate what was inside. He asked the question once again.
"...Who are you? Why are you pretending to be my wife?"
With thoughts of anger suppressing fear, he spoke to the woman in front of him.
"I am Irisviel. You can consider me as Irisviel."
Kiritsugu drew his most trusted Mystic Code, a pistol with the performance of a rifle, and pointed it at the woman.
"Stop with the nonsense and answer me."
Faced with the muzzle filled with killing intent, the woman in black clothing smiled desolately, as if she pitied him for being concerned about such trivial matters.
"You're right. I can't deny that this is a mask. Without assuming an existing personality as a 'shell,' I can't communicate with others. To convey my hope to you, I can only disguise myself in this way. She is the person closest to you, so I chose to borrow her appearance."
Kiritsugu didn't comprehend this through logic but through intuition.
The being that existed within the "inner side of the Holy Grail," claiming to be "no one," was—
"—Are you the will of the Holy Grail?"
"Yes, you can interpret it that way."
The entity, identical in appearance to his wife, nodded in satisfaction. However, on the other hand, a growing sense of unease and confusion furrowed his brow.
"That's impossible. The Holy Grail is just pure 'power'; it can't possibly possess any consciousness."
"Perhaps that was true before, but now it's different. I have a will, and I have desires. My wish is for 'hope to be born in this world.'"
"How is that possible..."
It was strange, too strange.
If what she said was true, then this was not the "wish-granting machine" that Kiritsugu had longed for, one that could fulfill his every desire.
"—If you have a will, then let me ask you. How does the Holy Grail intend to fulfill my wish?"
The woman tilted her head, displaying a puzzled expression. It seemed as if he had asked something incredibly unimaginable.
"This kind of thing—you should understand it better than anyone else, shouldn't you?"
"...What are you talking about?"
"Your very existence is already infinitely close to the Holy Grail, so even now, while connected to me, you can still maintain your rationality. If it were someone ordinary, they would have already mentally collapsed upon coming into contact with that black mud."
"You already know the method to save the world. So, I will follow your previous approach, accept your ideas, and fulfill your wish."
"What are you—saying?"
Kiritsugu couldn't comprehend. Because no matter what, he didn't want to understand it that way.
"Answer me, what does the Holy Grail intend to do? What will happen if that thing descends upon this world!?"
"That's for your inner self to answer."
A slender hand covered Kiritsugu's vision, and the world turned into darkness—
On the sea, there are two boats.
One boat carries three hundred people, while the other boat carries two hundred people, making a total of five hundred passengers and you. Let's assume these five hundred and one individuals are the last survivors of humanity.
Then please answer this.
"The bottoms of both boats have simultaneously suffered an irreparable hole. Only you can repair the boats, but while you are repairing one boat, the other will sink. Which boat would you choose to repair?"
"...Of course, the boat with three hundred people," Kiritsugu answered without hesitation.
"Once you make that decision, the two hundred people from the other boat will hold onto you and demand, 'Fix our boat first.' What would you do then?"
"This..."
Before he could speak and give an answer, an M950 submachine gun appeared in Kiritsugu's hand.
The gun seemed to be an automatic machine as flames burst forth from its muzzle. Kiritsugu just stared blankly.
Each bullet that came out of the gun killed four people, swiftly wiping out the two hundred individuals.
"—The correct answer. This is who you are."
Kiritsugu stared blankly as the boat filled with corpses sank into the sea. He felt that the familiar faces were scattered across the deck.
"Next, the three hundred surviving individuals abandon the damaged boat and board two new boats to continue their journey. This time, one boat carries two hundred people, and the other carries one hundred. However, the bottoms of these two boats simultaneously suffer a large hole."
"Wait..." Kiritsugu had a sense of foreboding.
"The hundred people on the small boat kidnap you and force you to repair their boat first. So, what will you do?"
"Well... but..."
Before he could answer, a flash of white light burst, and a bomb exploded, turning the hundred people into debris at the bottom of the sea. This was his way of doing things. Just like his repetitive actions in the past, he unleashed slaughter.
"—The correct answer."
"This is wrong... it can't be!"
This was far from correct.
Two hundred survivors. Three hundred people sacrificed for the sake of these two hundred. The balance had been overturned.
"No, the calculation is not wrong. You did sacrifice the few for the sake of saving the majority. Look at the next question."
The Game Master continued speaking, completely ignoring his protests.
One hundred and twenty people versus eighty people, and Kiritsugu mercilessly slaughtered the eighty.
Next was eighty people versus forty people, and Kiritsugu heard the agonizing screams of those forty people before their deaths. Each face seemed familiar—they were the people he had killed with his own hands in the past.
Sixty people versus twenty people—
Twenty-five people versus fifteen people— the multiple-choice questions continued;
The number of sacrifices kept increasing; the mountain of corpses kept piling up.
"Is this... what you wanted me to see?"
Kiritsugu felt disgusted by this low-level game and questioned the entity calling itself the "Will of the Holy Grail."
"Yes, this is your truth, the answer that Emiya Kiritsugu's heart gave, the wish that the Holy Grail as the Wish-Granting Device must fulfill."
"No, it's not!" Kiritsugu, his hands stained red, screamed in anguish.
"This is not my wish! I hoped for another way... so I could rely on a 'miracle'..."
"The methods you are unaware of cannot be included in your wish. If you wish to save the world, you must use the methods you already know."
"What a joke! How is this a miracle?"
"But it is a miracle. The wish you desire, which cannot be achieved individually, will be realized on a grand scale that humanity cannot accomplish. What else is it if not a miracle?"
Only five people remained, each one of them someone he cherished. Yet he was forced to choose between three or two of them.
Kiritsugu, crying in despair, pressed the detonator.
His father's head was blown away, and his foster mother's brain matter splattered.
"You... descending into this world... are you planning to... are you planning to do these things to all of humanity? You say this is the realization of my ideals!?"
"Of course. Your wish is most suitable to be the vessel of the Holy Grail. You are the one qualified to bear 'all the evils of this world.'"
Three people remained, whether to save two or choose one.
The hand gripping the dagger trembled uncontrollably.
Kiritsugu's tears had dried up, his gaze hollow like a lifeless being, as he cut open the body of his closest comrade with the blade.
One slash after another, he continuously wielded the dagger in his hand.
In the end, only two people remained alive in this world.
An equivalent value that could not be measured on a balance.
The last hope was guarded at the cost of 498 lives.
Kiritsugu, who had completed everything, fell into a trance-like state as if an empty shell basking in the warmth of a furnace.
In a warm room filled with nostalgic memories and a gentle atmosphere, his "wife" and "daughter" were laughing happily.
In other words—this was the peaceful world he longed for.
"A perfect world where there is no more struggle, and no one will be harmed."
"Welcome home, Kiritsugu. You've finally returned!"
The face of his daughter beamed with joy as she hung onto her father's neck with both hands.
This was a castle in the far north, sealed off by a blizzard, the only place of tranquility.
After traversing a bloody life, he had finally found this nonexistent happiness.
If this small child's room was everything in this world, there would be no need to worry about anything else.
"—Do you understand now? This is the wish the Holy Grail has granted for you."
His wife smiled beautifully at her husband, who shared this blissful moment.
All that remained was to speak their desire and hope for everything to happen.
All that was left was happiness.
The three of them would become the last humans, living eternally in joy and happiness on this star of death where everything had been destroyed.
"...I can no longer search for Illya..."
The view outside the window had ceased to show even the blizzard, with only the black mud flowing like the depths of the sea. Kiritsugu murmured as he gazed at the scene outside.
His daughter shook her head and spoke to him.
"It's okay. Illya is satisfied as long as she has you and Mother by her side."
Kiritsugu tightly embraced his daughter, whom he loved so deeply it bordered on madness, and tears streamed down uncontrollably.
"Thank you... Illya, Daddy loves you the most. I promise, Daddy truly loves you."
His hands moved smoothly, regardless of his inner thoughts. Like a well-designed mechanical device, he pressed the muzzle of the gun, his most trusted Mystic Code, against his beloved daughter's delicate chin.
"Goodbye, Illya."
Before the young girl could even comprehend what was happening, her head had already exploded with a gunshot.
Flesh, clinging to her silver hair, splattered onto the man's tear-stained cheek.
His wife let out a loud wail of grief.
Her eyes widened, her hair disheveled, and she screamed wildly, losing herself.
"What... What have you done!?"
Kiritsugu pushed down his wife, who rushed at him like a ghost, and his hands gripped her slender neck.
"The Holy Grail... You must not exist..."
Although he knew this was just a dream, and the woman in front of him wasn't his real wife, and the daughter killed wasn't his real daughter, he also knew that his real wife would despair and weep bitterly because of their daughter's death. She would hate the husband who killed their flesh and blood. That emotion was not false, and he couldn't forget the sins he had committed.
His eyes locked onto her as he endured these emotions, exerting all his strength in his hands, tightly choking his wife.
"My love, what are you doing... Why do you reject the Holy Grail, and us... my Illya... why would you do this!?"
"Because I..."
The voice that came from Kiritsugu's throat was hollow, like a breeze blowing through an empty gap. There was no sadness, no anger.
He abandoned the miracle he had pursued, and he gave up the benefits that went completely against his original intentions. In his heart, it was almost dry.
"I want... to save the world..."
He only had his long-held beliefs left, but these words sounded so empty.
The woman wearing his wife's appearance solidified, her snow-white face flushed red from congestion. She always looked at him with love and longing in her crimson eyes, but now they were stained with curses and resentment.
"I curse you..."
Her once dexterous and gentle fingers clenched tightly around the man's shoulders, and the black mud seeped through the five fingers deeply embedded in his flesh.
"Emiya Kiritsugu... I curse you... with pain... with regret until death... I will never forgive you..."
"Very well."
The hateful muck covered Kiritsugu's entire body as if it wanted to contaminate his body and soul together.
Even so, he did not let go. He even forgot why tears were streaming down his cheeks. While tightly strangling the woman's neck, he said:
"It's alright. I promised... I will bear it."
The woman's neck snapped in his trembling hand.
Once again, the scene changed.
The familiar stone floor, the familiar surroundings, his "killed" wife, and comrades were looking at him with concern.
"Are you okay?"
"Is there anything uncomfortable?"
His real wife repeatedly released healing and purifying magecraft towards him, and the scattered light from her fingertips made the man feel so warm.
Looking back, when he was consumed by the cursed black mud, there was always a light protecting him. That faint light contained hope.
At this moment, Emiya Kiritsugu understood that he hadn't lost everything. The person he loved and who loved him was always by his side.
Tears welled up in the man's eyes once again, but this time they were tears of joy.
"I'm back, Iri, Maiya."
=====
Note: Tommorow I will upload my new project "The God of Pirates With Naruto Ninja System"
Here's the first chapter of the story. I hope you enjoy reading it!
:
East Blue, a certain area.
A young boy stood on a boat, silently gazing at the sea, a world of azure blue. A thin layer of transparent mist covered the surface of the sea, and as the wind blew, it carried the fragrance of the air.
The young boy's name was Kaminari(Thunder), a sixteen-year-old high school student who, inexplicably, crossed over to this world over a month ago while watching the anime "One Piece."
In his previous life, he was an average person with an ordinary family background and average height. He was unremarkable in almost every aspect, except for his somewhat passable appearance and subtle handsomeness.
He had initially thought that by crossing into this world, he would be able to make great strides and achieve remarkable things. However, what awaited him was a tragic and bewildering fate.
When others crossed over, they either became direct descendants of high-ranking officials in the World Government or the Navy, or they became blood brothers of Gol D. Roger, the Pirate King.
But what about Kaminari?
He was captured on a pirate ship and became a miserable bottom-rung shipworker. He performed rough and odd jobs like repairing the ship, dropping anchor, hoisting sails, and moving heavy objects.
One couldn't help but feel sorry for him.
The captain of this ship was Buggy the "Clown," a Paramecia-type Devil Fruit user. He had a current bounty of 6 million berries and was a relatively unknown pirate. As for how Buggy got a bounty of 15 million berries in East Blue, that would come later...
With a loud "smack," Kaminari felt a slap on his head. He instinctively covered his head and turned to see a burly man with a stubbly face staring at him fiercely.
His name was Tom, an ordinary fighter in Buggy's pirate crew. He possessed immense physical strength and enjoyed bullying the weak.
Tom said, "Kid, you sure have a lot of free time, huh? Have you finished filling the ammunition that Buggy-sama asked you to? How can you afford to leisurely watch the sea?"
Kaminari remained silent and was quietly forced down from the deck into the ship's cabin by Tom. He continued to fill the ammunition for Buggy.
It wasn't that Kaminari didn't dare to resist, but he genuinely couldn't defeat Tom. He still remembers the second day after he was captured when Tom bullied him. Kaminari fought back, but he was beaten up by Tom until last week when his injuries finally healed a bit.
Although Kaminari was fearless, he understood the principle of not seeking trouble when it was right in front of him.
In his current powerless state, confronting Tom head-on would only result in more injuries without achieving much.
"When I become strong, I won't let you off!" Kaminari thought to himself.
But how could he become strong? That was the question. Power doesn't just fall from the sky like a pie.
Speaking of which, the power in this world can roughly be divided into three types: Devil Fruits, martial arts, and swordsmanship.
To obtain a Devil Fruit, one either needs a stroke of luck, like stumbling upon one while wandering on some island (though it might turn out to be the Human-Human Fruit, which is useless for humans and turns them into ducks—you could say it's a joke); or one needs to have a considerable amount of money, like the Paramecia-type Rubber-Rubber Fruit and some other Zoan-type Fruits, which have a market price of around 100 million berries; or one needs to have a certain level of power to forcefully take it from others.
Considering the above, Kaminari doesn't have any of those options, so there's no point in thinking about Devil Fruits.
Then there are martial arts and swordsmanship. Even if Kaminari does physical training like push-ups or squats every day, it would only make his body stronger and more resistant to beatings. But he can't defeat so many members of Buggy's pirate crew.
On this pirate ship, Kaminari can't train his physical abilities and cultivate combat skills like Rokushiki. He simply doesn't know how. If he knew Rokushiki, even if it was just one move, like Shigan, Kaminari would have mercilessly pierced Tom's body with a flurry of bloody holes.
But reality told Kaminari: Forget about it.
If things continued like this, when would he ever have a chance to rise? Was he destined to be bullied, humiliated, scolded, and ordered around on this damn clown's ship until he grew old with white hair, only to be discarded when he became useless, and then spend the rest of his lonely and miserable life?
Why was he so unlucky?
As Kaminari pondered this, his expression gradually dimmed, and disappointment turned into despair.
Slowly, with a sense of despair, Kaminari fell into a deep sleep on the cold lower deck...
The next day, just as the sky began to lighten, while Kaminari was still in a deep sleep, the sound of footsteps echoed from the stairs leading to the lower deck. A burly man appeared beside him and rudely kicked him while he was sleeping, waking him up.
The man was none other than Tom, who always enjoyed bullying him.
Kaminari's drowsy eyes were immediately filled with anger.
However, upon seeing Kaminari's angry gaze, Tom showed no fear. On the contrary, he looked at him with interest, wanting to see what this guy could do to him.
The gaze was like a weakling's roar, like a cat's furious meow.
The anger of a weakling doesn't make anyone the least bit afraid.
Seeing Kaminari's expression, Tom almost burst out laughing. "What's wrong, kid? Are you not satisfied?" he said, grabbing Kaminari's hair and shaking it vigorously.
Kaminari couldn't contain his anger and threw a punch towards Tom's body...
With his frail body, that punch was like a mosquito bite, or rather, even less impactful than a mosquito bite.
Tom grabbed his wrist with one large hand, preventing Kaminari from fighting back.
"You dare to fight back against me? I'll make sure to kill you!" Tom exclaimed, clenching his fist and delivering a powerful punch to Kaminari's face. Kaminari fell onto the deck, a faint red bruise forming on his face, and his teeth nearly knocked out.
Unsatisfied, Tom lifted his foot and kicked him hard, causing him to roll and collide with the wall of the cabin.
Kaminari was beaten and in pain, but he endured without uttering a sound.
"You better learn how formidable I am. From now on, you better behave, or I'll beat you three times a day!"
"And hurry up and get to work, don't stand around like some useless wimp."
After finishing his words, Tom proudly raised his eyebrows, swayed his slightly chubby body, and walked up to the upper deck like a triumphant general, humming a tune.
Kaminari endured the pain and slowly got up from the ground...
That's how it is for the weak. They hardly even have the basic right to survive, let alone dignity.
Kaminari couldn't help but recall the words of one of the Seven Warlords, Crocodile: "To be weak is a sin."
No, he had to become strong.
But where could he go now to obtain powerful strength?
There seemed to be no possibility.
And then, an idea sparked in Kaminari's mind.
Assassinate Tom!
He might as well go all out, take him down with him, and never endure his pathetic torment again.
In a dire situation, why fear death? When there's no way forward, there's no harm in seeking retribution!
-Thats it for now :)
=====
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Thank You @Manny Valdez For Joining My Patreon :)
Emiya Kiritsugu was filled with ideals more than anyone else and, therefore, felt despair more deeply than anyone else.
His dream was simple.
He wished for the happiness of every person in the world, always holding that hope deep in his heart.
It was a dream that every young person had once dreamed of, but after realizing the cruelty of reality, they would give up and abandon such naive ideals.
All forms of happiness require sacrifice as a price. Every child learns this simple truth as they grow up.
But this man was different.
Perhaps he was more foolish than anyone else, or maybe there was something wrong with his mind. It could even be because he possessed a transcendent destiny that defied common sense, something that even those called saints might not have.
When he understood that all life in this world is balanced on the scales of "sacrifice" and "redemption," and that it was impossible to leave one side empty...
From that day on, he resolved to become the master of those scales.
If he wanted to genuinely and effectively reduce the sorrows and lamentations of the world, there was only one method.
Even if it meant sacrificing the few to save the many, even if there was only one person.
This is the act of killing a minority of people to ensure the survival of the majority.
Because the more he saves, the more adept he becomes at the art of slaughter.
His hands are stained with layer after layer of blood, yet he never flinches in fear.
Regardless of whether the means are just or unjust, regardless of whether the ends are right or wrong.
The man only seeks to become an impartial and selfless scale.
He will never misjudge the value of life.
A life knows no distinction of rank, age, or worth—it is simply a quantifiable unit.
The man saves lives indiscriminately, but he also continues to kill.
However, when he realizes this, it is already too late.
To equally cherish all lives also means to have no love for anyone.
If he had engraved this iron rule in his heart earlier, perhaps there would have been a chance for redemption.
If he had frozen his young heart earlier, allowing it to wither and turn himself into an emotionless measuring machine, perhaps he could have spent his life coldly choosing between the living and the dead, without the need for anguish.
But this man is different.
The smiles of others bring satisfaction to his soul; the voices of others in pain shake his spirit.
When he sees others suffering injustice without recourse, he accompanies them in anger. When he sees someone shedding lonely tears, he can't help but reach out to wipe them away.
Although he pursues dreams that transcend the norms of the world, he still retains much of his humanity.
Countless times, this contradiction torments the man.
Sometimes it is friendship, sometimes it is love.
Even if he places the life he deeply loves alongside countless other unfamiliar lives on the scales, he will not make a mistake—ever since he woke up from the nightmare of losing the person he admired in his youth, he has never made a mistake again.
Because he loves someone, he will treat that person's life as equal to others, cherishing it in the same way and willing to sacrifice it just the same.
He always encounters important people again and again, only to lose them repeatedly.
The father who raised him.
The stepmother who accompanied him during his youth.
And then, there was his beloved wife.
He had long known that he would lose her. His dream was too distant, beyond what humanity alone could achieve. If it were to be realized, it could only be entrusted to the "miracle" known as the "All-Powerful Wish-Granting Machine." But to fulfill this miracle, a sacrifice must be made, and that sacrifice was his wife. This was something they had both known since they first met nine years ago.
He had wavered, regretted, and suffered, but compared to the happiness of all humanity, these struggles seemed insignificant.
He believed so firmly in this, so when he heard that the "miracle" that could fulfill his dream had already been shattered, he was on the brink of collapse. Yet, he clung to a last glimmer of hope, hoping that everyone was deceiving him, hoping that they had made a mistake.
With this thought in mind, he plunged into the contents overflowing from the "Holy Grail."
In a state of blurred consciousness and shifting vision, he saw a dream.
In the dream, his wife was by his side, leaning against him with a gentle smile, standing with him atop a mountain of corpses.
"I knew you would come. I believe you can reach this place."
"Iri—no, who are you? Where is this place?"
Although the woman before him looked exactly like his wife, he knew that she wasn't his wife.
Not only was the woman wearing black clothes that his wife had never worn, but her demeanor was also completely different from his wife's.
"This is the place where your wishes come true, the inner side of the Holy Grail you have been seeking," the woman replied cheerfully.
The man was left speechless, looking around.
The black, decaying mud resembled a restless sea.
Everywhere were small hills made of decaying corpses, slowly sinking into the sea of black mud.
The sky was red, a crimson that resembled blood. Amidst the black mud rain, a pitch-black sun supported this sky.
The wind that blew carried curses and moans.
If one were to metaphorically describe it, wasn't this... hell?
"You mean... this is the Holy Grail?" Kiritsugu asked.
"Yes. But don't be afraid because this is like an intangible illusionary dream, just waiting for the moment of birth," the woman replied, pointing to the sky, and signaling to him.
Kiritsugu mistakenly thought it was the sun, but in the center of the rotating black world in the sky, there was a "hole" opened in the heavens. The hole was filled with endless profound darkness, a supermassive entity that seemed capable of crushing everything.
"That is the true Holy Grail. Although it doesn't have a physical form yet, the entire vessel is already full. Now all you have to do is state your wish. Regardless of the wish received, it will choose the appropriate form to fulfill it. Only after obtaining a physical form in this way can it go 'outside.'"
"..."
"Come on, please give it a 'form' quickly. You are the one who has the qualifications to bestow it with ideas. Tell your wish to the Holy Grail."
Kiritsugu gazed at the terrifying "hole." Ordinary humans would never be able to tolerate what was inside. He asked the question once again.
"...Who are you? Why are you pretending to be my wife?"
With thoughts of anger suppressing fear, he spoke to the woman in front of him.
"I am Irisviel. You can consider me as Irisviel."
Kiritsugu drew his most trusted Mystic Code, a pistol with the performance of a rifle, and pointed it at the woman.
"Stop with the nonsense and answer me."
Faced with the muzzle filled with killing intent, the woman in black clothing smiled desolately, as if she pitied him for being concerned about such trivial matters.
"You're right. I can't deny that this is a mask. Without assuming an existing personality as a 'shell,' I can't communicate with others. To convey my hope to you, I can only disguise myself in this way. She is the person closest to you, so I chose to borrow her appearance."
Kiritsugu didn't comprehend this through logic but through intuition.
The being that existed within the "inner side of the Holy Grail," claiming to be "no one," was—
"—Are you the will of the Holy Grail?"
"Yes, you can interpret it that way."
The entity, identical in appearance to his wife, nodded in satisfaction. However, on the other hand, a growing sense of unease and confusion furrowed his brow.
"That's impossible. The Holy Grail is just pure 'power'; it can't possibly possess any consciousness."
"Perhaps that was true before, but now it's different. I have a will, and I have desires. My wish is for 'hope to be born in this world.'"
"How is that possible..."
It was strange, too strange.
If what she said was true, then this was not the "wish-granting machine" that Kiritsugu had longed for, one that could fulfill his every desire.
"—If you have a will, then let me ask you. How does the Holy Grail intend to fulfill my wish?"
The woman tilted her head, displaying a puzzled expression. It seemed as if he had asked something incredibly unimaginable.
"This kind of thing—you should understand it better than anyone else, shouldn't you?"
"...What are you talking about?"
"Your very existence is already infinitely close to the Holy Grail, so even now, while connected to me, you can still maintain your rationality. If it were someone ordinary, they would have already mentally collapsed upon coming into contact with that black mud."
"You already know the method to save the world. So, I will follow your previous approach, accept your ideas, and fulfill your wish."
"What are you—saying?"
Kiritsugu couldn't comprehend. Because no matter what, he didn't want to understand it that way.
"Answer me, what does the Holy Grail intend to do? What will happen if that thing descends upon this world!?"
"That's for your inner self to answer."
A slender hand covered Kiritsugu's vision, and the world turned into darkness—
On the sea, there are two boats.
One boat carries three hundred people, while the other boat carries two hundred people, making a total of five hundred passengers and you. Let's assume these five hundred and one individuals are the last survivors of humanity.
Then please answer this.
"The bottoms of both boats have simultaneously suffered an irreparable hole. Only you can repair the boats, but while you are repairing one boat, the other will sink. Which boat would you choose to repair?"
"...Of course, the boat with three hundred people," Kiritsugu answered without hesitation.
"Once you make that decision, the two hundred people from the other boat will hold onto you and demand, 'Fix our boat first.' What would you do then?"
"This..."
Before he could speak and give an answer, an M950 submachine gun appeared in Kiritsugu's hand.
The gun seemed to be an automatic machine as flames burst forth from its muzzle. Kiritsugu just stared blankly.
Each bullet that came out of the gun killed four people, swiftly wiping out the two hundred individuals.
"—The correct answer. This is who you are."
Kiritsugu stared blankly as the boat filled with corpses sank into the sea. He felt that the familiar faces were scattered across the deck.
"Next, the three hundred surviving individuals abandon the damaged boat and board two new boats to continue their journey. This time, one boat carries two hundred people, and the other carries one hundred. However, the bottoms of these two boats simultaneously suffer a large hole."
"Wait..." Kiritsugu had a sense of foreboding.
"The hundred people on the small boat kidnap you and force you to repair their boat first. So, what will you do?"
"Well... but..."
Before he could answer, a flash of white light burst, and a bomb exploded, turning the hundred people into debris at the bottom of the sea. This was his way of doing things. Just like his repetitive actions in the past, he unleashed slaughter.
"—The correct answer."
"This is wrong... it can't be!"
This was far from correct.
Two hundred survivors. Three hundred people sacrificed for the sake of these two hundred. The balance had been overturned.
"No, the calculation is not wrong. You did sacrifice the few for the sake of saving the majority. Look at the next question."
The Game Master continued speaking, completely ignoring his protests.
One hundred and twenty people versus eighty people, and Kiritsugu mercilessly slaughtered the eighty.
Next was eighty people versus forty people, and Kiritsugu heard the agonizing screams of those forty people before their deaths. Each face seemed familiar—they were the people he had killed with his own hands in the past.
Sixty people versus twenty people—
Twenty-five people versus fifteen people— the multiple-choice questions continued;
The number of sacrifices kept increasing; the mountain of corpses kept piling up.
"Is this... what you wanted me to see?"
Kiritsugu felt disgusted by this low-level game and questioned the entity calling itself the "Will of the Holy Grail."
"Yes, this is your truth, the answer that Emiya Kiritsugu's heart gave, the wish that the Holy Grail as the Wish-Granting Device must fulfill."
"No, it's not!" Kiritsugu, his hands stained red, screamed in anguish.
"This is not my wish! I hoped for another way... so I could rely on a 'miracle'..."
"The methods you are unaware of cannot be included in your wish. If you wish to save the world, you must use the methods you already know."
"What a joke! How is this a miracle?"
"But it is a miracle. The wish you desire, which cannot be achieved individually, will be realized on a grand scale that humanity cannot accomplish. What else is it if not a miracle?"
Only five people remained, each one of them someone he cherished. Yet he was forced to choose between three or two of them.
Kiritsugu, crying in despair, pressed the detonator.
His father's head was blown away, and his foster mother's brain matter splattered.
"You... descending into this world... are you planning to... are you planning to do these things to all of humanity? You say this is the realization of my ideals!?"
"Of course. Your wish is most suitable to be the vessel of the Holy Grail. You are the one qualified to bear 'all the evils of this world.'"
Three people remained, whether to save two or choose one.
The hand gripping the dagger trembled uncontrollably.
Kiritsugu's tears had dried up, his gaze hollow like a lifeless being, as he cut open the body of his closest comrade with the blade.
One slash after another, he continuously wielded the dagger in his hand.
In the end, only two people remained alive in this world.
An equivalent value that could not be measured on a balance.
The last hope was guarded at the cost of 498 lives.
Kiritsugu, who had completed everything, fell into a trance-like state as if an empty shell basking in the warmth of a furnace.
In a warm room filled with nostalgic memories and a gentle atmosphere, his "wife" and "daughter" were laughing happily.
In other words—this was the peaceful world he longed for.
"A perfect world where there is no more struggle, and no one will be harmed."
"Welcome home, Kiritsugu. You've finally returned!"
The face of his daughter beamed with joy as she hung onto her father's neck with both hands.
This was a castle in the far north, sealed off by a blizzard, the only place of tranquility.
After traversing a bloody life, he had finally found this nonexistent happiness.
If this small child's room was everything in this world, there would be no need to worry about anything else.
"—Do you understand now? This is the wish the Holy Grail has granted for you."
His wife smiled beautifully at her husband, who shared this blissful moment.
All that remained was to speak their desire and hope for everything to happen.
All that was left was happiness.
The three of them would become the last humans, living eternally in joy and happiness on this star of death where everything had been destroyed.
"...I can no longer search for Illya..."
The view outside the window had ceased to show even the blizzard, with only the black mud flowing like the depths of the sea. Kiritsugu murmured as he gazed at the scene outside.
His daughter shook her head and spoke to him.
"It's okay. Illya is satisfied as long as she has you and Mother by her side."
Kiritsugu tightly embraced his daughter, whom he loved so deeply it bordered on madness, and tears streamed down uncontrollably.
"Thank you... Illya, Daddy loves you the most. I promise, Daddy truly loves you."
His hands moved smoothly, regardless of his inner thoughts. Like a well-designed mechanical device, he pressed the muzzle of the gun, his most trusted Mystic Code, against his beloved daughter's delicate chin.
"Goodbye, Illya."
Before the young girl could even comprehend what was happening, her head had already exploded with a gunshot.
Flesh, clinging to her silver hair, splattered onto the man's tear-stained cheek.
His wife let out a loud wail of grief.
Her eyes widened, her hair disheveled, and she screamed wildly, losing herself.
"What... What have you done!?"
Kiritsugu pushed down his wife, who rushed at him like a ghost, and his hands gripped her slender neck.
"The Holy Grail... You must not exist..."
Although he knew this was just a dream, and the woman in front of him wasn't his real wife, and the daughter killed wasn't his real daughter, he also knew that his real wife would despair and weep bitterly because of their daughter's death. She would hate the husband who killed their flesh and blood. That emotion was not false, and he couldn't forget the sins he had committed.
His eyes locked onto her as he endured these emotions, exerting all his strength in his hands, tightly choking his wife.
"My love, what are you doing... Why do you reject the Holy Grail, and us... my Illya... why would you do this!?"
"Because I..."
The voice that came from Kiritsugu's throat was hollow, like a breeze blowing through an empty gap. There was no sadness, no anger.
He abandoned the miracle he had pursued, and he gave up the benefits that went completely against his original intentions. In his heart, it was almost dry.
"I want... to save the world..."
He only had his long-held beliefs left, but these words sounded so empty.
The woman wearing his wife's appearance solidified, her snow-white face flushed red from congestion. She always looked at him with love and longing in her crimson eyes, but now they were stained with curses and resentment.
"I curse you..."
Her once dexterous and gentle fingers clenched tightly around the man's shoulders, and the black mud seeped through the five fingers deeply embedded in his flesh.
"Emiya Kiritsugu... I curse you... with pain... with regret until death... I will never forgive you..."
"Very well."
The hateful muck covered Kiritsugu's entire body as if it wanted to contaminate his body and soul together.
Even so, he did not let go. He even forgot why tears were streaming down his cheeks. While tightly strangling the woman's neck, he said:
"It's alright. I promised... I will bear it."
The woman's neck snapped in his trembling hand.
Once again, the scene changed.
The familiar stone floor, the familiar surroundings, his "killed" wife, and comrades were looking at him with concern.
"Are you okay?"
"Is there anything uncomfortable?"
His real wife repeatedly released healing and purifying magecraft towards him, and the scattered light from her fingertips made the man feel so warm.
Looking back, when he was consumed by the cursed black mud, there was always a light protecting him. That faint light contained hope.
At this moment, Emiya Kiritsugu understood that he hadn't lost everything. The person he loved and who loved him was always by his side.
Tears welled up in the man's eyes once again, but this time they were tears of joy.
"I'm back, Iri, Maiya."
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Note: Tommorow I will upload my new project "The God of Pirates With Naruto Ninja System"
Here's the first chapter of the story. I hope you enjoy reading it!
:
East Blue, a certain area.
A young boy stood on a boat, silently gazing at the sea, a world of azure blue. A thin layer of transparent mist covered the surface of the sea, and as the wind blew, it carried the fragrance of the air.
The young boy's name was Kaminari(Thunder), a sixteen-year-old high school student who, inexplicably, crossed over to this world over a month ago while watching the anime "One Piece."
In his previous life, he was an average person with an ordinary family background and average height. He was unremarkable in almost every aspect, except for his somewhat passable appearance and subtle handsomeness.
He had initially thought that by crossing into this world, he would be able to make great strides and achieve remarkable things. However, what awaited him was a tragic and bewildering fate.
When others crossed over, they either became direct descendants of high-ranking officials in the World Government or the Navy, or they became blood brothers of Gol D. Roger, the Pirate King.
But what about Kaminari?
He was captured on a pirate ship and became a miserable bottom-rung shipworker. He performed rough and odd jobs like repairing the ship, dropping anchor, hoisting sails, and moving heavy objects.
One couldn't help but feel sorry for him.
The captain of this ship was Buggy the "Clown," a Paramecia-type Devil Fruit user. He had a current bounty of 6 million berries and was a relatively unknown pirate. As for how Buggy got a bounty of 15 million berries in East Blue, that would come later...
With a loud "smack," Kaminari felt a slap on his head. He instinctively covered his head and turned to see a burly man with a stubbly face staring at him fiercely.
His name was Tom, an ordinary fighter in Buggy's pirate crew. He possessed immense physical strength and enjoyed bullying the weak.
Tom said, "Kid, you sure have a lot of free time, huh? Have you finished filling the ammunition that Buggy-sama asked you to? How can you afford to leisurely watch the sea?"
Kaminari remained silent and was quietly forced down from the deck into the ship's cabin by Tom. He continued to fill the ammunition for Buggy.
It wasn't that Kaminari didn't dare to resist, but he genuinely couldn't defeat Tom. He still remembers the second day after he was captured when Tom bullied him. Kaminari fought back, but he was beaten up by Tom until last week when his injuries finally healed a bit.
Although Kaminari was fearless, he understood the principle of not seeking trouble when it was right in front of him.
In his current powerless state, confronting Tom head-on would only result in more injuries without achieving much.
"When I become strong, I won't let you off!" Kaminari thought to himself.
But how could he become strong? That was the question. Power doesn't just fall from the sky like a pie.
Speaking of which, the power in this world can roughly be divided into three types: Devil Fruits, martial arts, and swordsmanship.
To obtain a Devil Fruit, one either needs a stroke of luck, like stumbling upon one while wandering on some island (though it might turn out to be the Human-Human Fruit, which is useless for humans and turns them into ducks—you could say it's a joke); or one needs to have a considerable amount of money, like the Paramecia-type Rubber-Rubber Fruit and some other Zoan-type Fruits, which have a market price of around 100 million berries; or one needs to have a certain level of power to forcefully take it from others.
Considering the above, Kaminari doesn't have any of those options, so there's no point in thinking about Devil Fruits.
Then there are martial arts and swordsmanship. Even if Kaminari does physical training like push-ups or squats every day, it would only make his body stronger and more resistant to beatings. But he can't defeat so many members of Buggy's pirate crew.
On this pirate ship, Kaminari can't train his physical abilities and cultivate combat skills like Rokushiki. He simply doesn't know how. If he knew Rokushiki, even if it was just one move, like Shigan, Kaminari would have mercilessly pierced Tom's body with a flurry of bloody holes.
But reality told Kaminari: Forget about it.
If things continued like this, when would he ever have a chance to rise? Was he destined to be bullied, humiliated, scolded, and ordered around on this damn clown's ship until he grew old with white hair, only to be discarded when he became useless, and then spend the rest of his lonely and miserable life?
Why was he so unlucky?
As Kaminari pondered this, his expression gradually dimmed, and disappointment turned into despair.
Slowly, with a sense of despair, Kaminari fell into a deep sleep on the cold lower deck...
The next day, just as the sky began to lighten, while Kaminari was still in a deep sleep, the sound of footsteps echoed from the stairs leading to the lower deck. A burly man appeared beside him and rudely kicked him while he was sleeping, waking him up.
The man was none other than Tom, who always enjoyed bullying him.
Kaminari's drowsy eyes were immediately filled with anger.
However, upon seeing Kaminari's angry gaze, Tom showed no fear. On the contrary, he looked at him with interest, wanting to see what this guy could do to him.
The gaze was like a weakling's roar, like a cat's furious meow.
The anger of a weakling doesn't make anyone the least bit afraid.
Seeing Kaminari's expression, Tom almost burst out laughing. "What's wrong, kid? Are you not satisfied?" he said, grabbing Kaminari's hair and shaking it vigorously.
Kaminari couldn't contain his anger and threw a punch towards Tom's body...
With his frail body, that punch was like a mosquito bite, or rather, even less impactful than a mosquito bite.
Tom grabbed his wrist with one large hand, preventing Kaminari from fighting back.
"You dare to fight back against me? I'll make sure to kill you!" Tom exclaimed, clenching his fist and delivering a powerful punch to Kaminari's face. Kaminari fell onto the deck, a faint red bruise forming on his face, and his teeth nearly knocked out.
Unsatisfied, Tom lifted his foot and kicked him hard, causing him to roll and collide with the wall of the cabin.
Kaminari was beaten and in pain, but he endured without uttering a sound.
"You better learn how formidable I am. From now on, you better behave, or I'll beat you three times a day!"
"And hurry up and get to work, don't stand around like some useless wimp."
After finishing his words, Tom proudly raised his eyebrows, swayed his slightly chubby body, and walked up to the upper deck like a triumphant general, humming a tune.
Kaminari endured the pain and slowly got up from the ground...
That's how it is for the weak. They hardly even have the basic right to survive, let alone dignity.
Kaminari couldn't help but recall the words of one of the Seven Warlords, Crocodile: "To be weak is a sin."
No, he had to become strong.
But where could he go now to obtain powerful strength?
There seemed to be no possibility.
And then, an idea sparked in Kaminari's mind.
Assassinate Tom!
He might as well go all out, take him down with him, and never endure his pathetic torment again.
In a dire situation, why fear death? When there's no way forward, there's no harm in seeking retribution!
-Thats it for now :)
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