The Ultimate Lich King of the Multiverse

Fuyuki City, Japan.

A man in a black trench coat looked up at the bustling cityscape before him. Then, he dropped the cigarette in his hand and crushed it underfoot.

This was the main battlefield of every past Holy Grail War, and also the site where the next war would be held ten years from now.

Kiritsugu Emiya had come here for a reason—two of the three founding families of the Holy Grail system resided in this city: the Tohsaka family and the Matou family.

Kiritsugu had his own reasons for entering the Holy Grail War. The Einzbern family had simply been one possible route. Now that someone else had beaten him to that opportunity, he just had to find another.

Kiritsugu had already gathered detailed intelligence on both the Tohsaka and Matou families. After analyzing his findings, he settled on a target.

The Tohsaka family was out of the question. Its head, Tokiomi Tohsaka, was still in his prime, recently married, and had just fathered two daughters. Clearly, he had no need for an outsider like Kiritsugu.

But the other family was a different matter.

The Matou family—the last of the three great lineages—had long since fallen into decline. Their influence had waned, and their two heirs showed no interest whatsoever in pursuing the family's magical traditions. In fact, they had even moved out of the Matou household.

At a time like this, the great magus of the Matou family must be feeling quite troubled. With the Holy Grail War drawing near, he still hadn't found a suitable representative.

Following the directions on his map, Kiritsugu soon arrived at the Matou estate. The unassuming old mansion was even more gloomy than he'd imagined. No wonder the heirs had chosen to live elsewhere.

The current head of the Matou family was Matou Byakuya, a man with no magical aptitude whatsoever. His lack of talent had left him virtually untouched by the family's magecraft traditions.

Though Byakuya held the title of family head, the true power in the household still rested with the sinister old magus known as Zouken Matou, master of familiars and parasitic worm magic.

Because of the nature of his magecraft, Zouken was shunned by nearly all who knew of him. Perhaps this was why his descendants were so averse to inheriting the Matou arts.

But Kiritsugu didn't care. Worms or not, as long as he could gain the power to enter the Holy Grail War, nothing else mattered.

With that thought in mind, he pushed open the gates to the Matou residence and stepped inside the eerie old mansion without hesitation.

"Oh… now this is a rare guest indeed. It's been years—decades, even—since anyone last visited the Matou family."

As if he had foreseen Kiritsugu's arrival, a hoarse voice echoed the moment he entered. The voice came from the mansion's sole inhabitant—a half-decayed old man.

There was no better word to describe him than half-rotted.

The man before Kiritsugu was bald, with withered limbs that looked mummified. His sunken eye sockets glinted with a fierce, penetrating light. Everything about him—his appearance, his presence—was far from normal.

According to Kiritsugu's intel, this man was officially registered as Matou Byakuya's father. But strangely, the Matou family tree listed Zouken Matou as the patriarch from three generations back.

If there weren't some kind of unnatural circumstances at play, this old man had likely been alive for hundreds of years.

To call him a monster would be no exaggeration.

Still, Kiritsugu showed no fear. He simply stared at the old man, whose eyes flickered with naked greed.

Zouken was greedy. He was lusting after the strong, youthful body standing before him.

Although Zouken had lived for centuries, his body continued to deteriorate over time. To survive, he had to constantly replace his body—inhabiting and parasitizing new hosts once the old one was too far gone.

Kiritsugu's body, undoubtedly brimming with life and vitality, would make an exceptional vessel.

If it weren't for the faint traces of magical energy Kiritsugu gave off—hints of a magecraft crest—Zouken might have already attacked him outright.

The possibility that Kiritsugu was affiliated with the Mage's Association held Zouken back. If he rashly killed someone under their protection, it would be a disaster.

Zouken knew full well that if the Mage's Association ever learned the truth about his existence and his methods for prolonging life, they would surely place him under Sealing Designation—or worse.

That would be no different from death. Zouken would never let that happen.

"Forgive the late-night intrusion. My name is Kiritsugu Emiya. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

"Oh? The infamous Mage Killer everyone's been whispering about lately? Don't tell me… you're here to kill this old man?"

Zouken narrowed his eyes, a touch of suspicion entering his gaze.

Kiritsugu's reputation had been built on the blood and corpses of mages. Even someone like Zouken wouldn't underestimate the man before him, despite his weak magical aura.

"Not at all. I came here today with a humble request."

Kiritsugu shook his head, showing no hostility.

"A humble request, you say? Let's hear it then."

"Ten years from now, the Fourth Holy Grail War will begin… correct?"

"That's right. Unfortunately, it seems the Matou family may have to forfeit this time."

Zouken let out a sigh, as if deeply disappointed.

"My two sons are complete failures. Neither of them shows any interest in our family's magecraft. I fear we have no one to represent the Matou name in the coming war."

"In that case… what about me?"

"…Hm?"

Kiritsugu's words gave Zouken pause.

"If I were to represent the Matou family in the next Holy Grail War… what would you say, Father?"

The word "Father" made Zouken blink in surprise. Then, suddenly, he burst into raspy laughter.

His laughter echoed through the room for a long while before slowly fading.

"How interesting… But tell me—if you're calling me Father, then are you prepared to inherit the Matou family's magecraft?"

"Of course. Worm magecraft, was it? I've long been prepared."

Kiritsugu met Zouken's gaze without flinching.

He had already steeled himself to abandon everything—for the sake of the Holy Grail, and the grand ideal he carried in his heart.

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