Kapitel 55: El-Melloi
"I actually don't love you," Kirei Kotomine once told his wife.
"--- No, you're wrong. You do love me." That woman, like a purple hydrangea in bloom, resolutely chose death to prove her point.
"Sigh. You're crying." She smiled, and then said goodbye to the man.
The once-abandoned memories resurfaced.
Inside the simple magic circle, Kurumi closed her eyes, resting.
Other than the wine-red magic eye, she looked exactly like Irisviel.
Unlike other types of avatars, each of Kurumi's clones represented a specific timeline's "past."
This one, dragged here to play the role of the Holy Grail vessel due to laziness, possessed a unique blend of indolence and mischief.
Kirei Kotomine was deep in thought. Both Gilgamesh and Kurumi's words, filled with temptation, seemed to hold some truth.
Whether they were engaging in sophistry or not, there was no denying that savoring the pain of others, as well as enjoying spicy tofu, were indeed things that brought him pleasure.
There was something unusual about the shadow behind Avenger. It wasn't hidden at all.
He knew that the other party was already closing in.
Not reporting this could be considered a betrayal, even to the ancient King of Heroes.
Yet, for some reason, he felt a sense of anticipation, a strange joy.
Kirei Kotomine turned and left, heading toward the Hongzhou Hall.
Perhaps he would never get the chance to see the sunrise again, so why not first learn the secret to making great mapo tofu?
In a small, neat room in Fuyuki City Hospital, sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting beams onto the pristine white sheets.
Sola held Kayneth's left hand, peacefully napping.
Waver, meanwhile, was busy attending to them.
The wounds inflicted by the Origin Bullet were incomprehensible to modern doctors, but fortunately, they weren't fatal.
Sola's magic aptitude wasn't particularly strong, but compared to Waver, it was still far superior.
Applying a simple hypnotic suggestion didn't take much effort.
Kayneth's left hand twitched, as he slowly regained consciousness.
His body felt weak—far weaker than he could imagine.
He tried to pull his left hand from Sola's grasp, but with all his strength, he could barely move. Just opening his fingers seemed to sap him of his energy.
Half of his magic circuits had been damaged, and he couldn't sense his Mystic Code either.
Everything he had built with his rightful honor had seemingly been destroyed last night, but... Sola was alive.
He strained to stretch out his right hand, his fingertips gently touching Sola's closed eyelashes—so light, like dandelion fluff.
Sola was unharmed, and that was all that mattered.
Clatter—
A pile of papers slipped to the floor.
Kayneth frowned and looked toward the door. It was that ungrateful brat.
"Waver..." His voice still carried that sharp tone, but it was so weak that it no longer instilled the usual fear in Waver.
"Lord El-Melloi." Waver was flustered, hurriedly picking up the various reports and medical documents scattered on the floor.
"Waver, how many times have I told you? A magician must maintain control at all times." Despite his exhaustion, Kayneth reprimanded him.
"Yes... Lord El-Melloi."
"Hey, magician. This kid has been running around all night taking care of you." A tall, burly man squeezed into the small room, standing up for Waver.
"Rider..."
"Still acting all high and mighty, huh? You lost the war, didn't you?" Rider retorted.
Over the past few days, he had come to understand his young Master—a man with a strong sense of pride yet marred by a deep insecurity. Despite having stolen his teacher's relic and summoning Rider, Waver had never truly stood up to his teacher.
To Rider, stealing was disgraceful. If you want something, you should take it boldly—that's the romantic way of the King of Conquerors.
However, Waver, like Kayneth, was an awkward man bound by his own sense of honor.
"Rider!" Waver tugged at the hem of Rider's cloak, trying to quiet him.
"Waver Velvet!" Kayneth raised an eyebrow in displeasure.
"Y-yes, Lord El-Melloi."
"Hold your head up! This pathetic behavior is an embarrassment to the Department of Spiritual Evocation!"
Kayneth had once thought that this student of his had the best potential he had ever seen. With enough knowledge, Waver could secure a decent position in the Clock Tower. Perhaps, after a few generations of refining his family lineage, the name Velvet could become part of the new aristocracy of the Clock Tower.
But Kayneth had not anticipated this boy's naivety. How could this fool think he could challenge the thousand-year-old noble houses that ruled the world with their superior bloodlines?
"Y-yes!" Waver tried his best to stand tall.
"Keep it down; Sola is still asleep," Kayneth said, his face contorted in disdain.
"Yes..."
Kayneth extended his right hand toward a contract resting on the nightstand.
Waver dutifully handed it to him, but Kayneth glared at him.
The sight of those stipulations made Kayneth's whole body tremble.
Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald could never return to London, could never return to the Clock Tower.
Without him, what would become of the Archibald family?
What would happen to the El-Melloi faction?
The warm sunlight outside was rare, but Kayneth's heart was colder than ever.
"Waver."
He sighed deeply.
"You have talent."
Waver was stunned by this unexpected affirmation.
"But... talent doesn't equate to power. Do you understand?"
"When you return to the Clock Tower, look into how those bodies floating in formaldehyde ended up there." Kayneth's tone lost its usual sarcasm, replaced by a deep melancholy that Waver couldn't yet comprehend.
-46:13:07
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Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
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