Chapter 502: [502] The Reason to Stand Before My King

Mordred’s complaints were perfectly understandable—while spiritualization would technically solve the issue, she still longed to sleep soundly on a soft bed or soak in a proper bath, not this half-hearted shower that barely produced lukewarm water.

Even if it served no practical purpose, such desires were only natural.

As he zipped himself into his sleeping bag, Kairi responded to Mordred’s vehement protests:

"Listen, kid, that’s enemy territory. Who’d be stupid enough to sleep there?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it."

"You’re impossible, Saber. Look, we are cooperating with them. But if we’re not careful, we’ll be backed into a corner. Working together isn’t the same as true alliance."

"So you’re saying they’re untrustworthy?"

"Nah, it’s the opposite—they don’t trust us. If they see us acting all chummy, they’ll just get more suspicious."

His voice came muffled through the sleeping bag.

"Here, maybe this analogy will help. Say there’s a tiger with a collar, and its keeper assures you, ’Oh, he’s tame, a real sweetheart.’ Then you’re told you have to spend the night with it. You’ve got a gun. First, you have to go hunting together, but the kicker? In the end, you’ll have to fight it to the death—"

"You’re saying we’re the tiger?"

"Exactly. The more we trust them, the less they’ll trust us. Mercenaries are easy—pay them enough, and they’re reliable. But if someone helps you for free, you start wondering, ’When are they gonna stab me in the back?’"

Humans were like that by nature, let alone sworn enemies. And right now, Kairi wasn’t in a position to demand payment from Yggdmillennia.

"Besides, there’s a bigger goal. We still need to discuss how to get ahead of them, and staying there wouldn’t help."

Seeing his sly grin, Mordred mirrored it.

"Should’ve led with that! So, what’s the plan?"

Before they left, Chiron had already announced his intention to secure a plane for their assault on the Hanging Gardens. Preparations were underway, and it would be ready within two days at most.

Meaning, the final battle was only forty-eight hours away.

"First, we split from them. If we say traveling together on the same plane is too risky, they’ll buy it. Then, while the others engage the Red Faction—"

"—we take the Grail."

They laughed in unison.

"Hah! Never thought my Master would still be this stubborn at the eleventh hour!"

"Think it’s pathetic?"

"There’s really nothing to be ashamed of, but—I still don’t quite understand. You once said your wish for the Holy Grail was the prosperity of your family’s descendants, right?"

"Yeah, I did say that."

"That was a lie, wasn’t it? I don’t think you’d go to such lengths just for that kind of wish."

Mordred’s laughter suddenly stopped. She was staring at Kairi’s face with an unusually serious expression, as if trying to convey something.

"—So, tell me. Master, what’s your real wish?"

Kairi averted his gaze slightly, letting out a sigh as if surrendering. Then, he pulled out a cigarette from his pocket.

Not long ago, Kairi had mentioned his wish to Mordred—to restore his family, which had fallen due to a demon, to prosperity.

Now, it seemed his clumsy evasion hadn’t fooled her for long.

"You seem to have misunderstood. I didn’t actually lie. But that said, I didn’t tell the whole truth either. Hmm, just like you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, your wish is ’to draw the Sword of Selection,’ right? But to me, it seems like your real feelings go beyond that, don’t they?"

Faced with Kairi’s counterattack, Mordred’s expression stiffened. Muttering, "That’s not it at all," she buried half her face in her sleeping bag, clearly intending to end tonight’s conversation to keep her secret hidden.

Kairi smiled faintly at the unusually uncooperative Mordred and lit his cigarette.

"Well, once we head to the Hanging Gardens, there won’t be another chance. Might as well tell you now—my wish."

And so, Kairi Sisigou began his story.

The Sisigou family was a lineage of magi who had drifted from Europe to Japan several generations ago. Of course, the name "Sisigou" was adopted only after arriving in Japan.

By then, their Magic Crest was nearly lost. For magi, leaving the land where their magecraft foundation lay was a fatal mistake—much like the extinct Osarei family.

Thus, in the face of irreversible decline, the Sisigou family decided to sell their souls.

"You know how fairy tales often have those contracts with business demons? Our ancestors did something like that." [Note: Referring to contracts like the one with Mephistopheles in Faust.]

As for what exactly they made a pact with in Japan, only the family head at the time knew. The only certainties were that the contract had binding force similar to a Geis Scroll and that their wish was granted—properly realized.

In any case, the Sisigou family managed to rise again through this means. Their Magic Crest was revived, even manifesting miraculous power surpassing its prime, and the family regained prominence as one of the great magi houses in the Far East.

—And then, of course, such miracles naturally came at a price.

"That price... was me."

In the end, that contract was likely a curse—an equivalent exchange sacrificing the future to supplement the present.

As a result, the curse indeed activated after several generations, and the one who ultimately became its victim was Kairi Sisigou. The nature of this curse was utterly abhorrent for a magus.

Kairi Sisigou could not have descendants—absolutely could not. Thus, despite possessing a precious Magic Crest, the Sisigou family was doomed to end with his generation.

"What’s the big deal? Just adopt a kid or something, right?"

Hearing Mordred’s question, Kairi removed the cigarette from his lips and stubbed it out on the ground. Throughout this motion, a peculiar smile lingered on his face.

"Yeah, that’s the kind of optimism my family had at first. But when we tried transplanting my Crest into an adopted daughter, she died. After that, there was no way forward."

It wasn’t due to rejection. The girl was a distant relative with some Sisigou blood, and pre-transplant tests had shown high compatibility.

Only after dissection did they discover the cause lay within Kairi Sisigou’s Magic Crest. From his Crest seeped a lethal poison. It was said that while the Crest was perfectly attuned to Kairi’s body, the moment it was transplanted into another’s flesh, it would immediately produce toxins.

Upon learning this truth, Kairi immediately dissuaded his father, Touki, who had intended to continue the transplant experiments, and decided to abandon the effort. In other words, the Sisigou lineage would end with Kairi. He then left his home and fell into the life of a mage-for-hire bounty hunter.

Thus was born the mercenary Kairi Sisigou.

But—Kairi Sisigou encountered the Holy Grail War.

With the miracle of the Holy Grail, it might be possible to purge the poison from his Magic Crest. And perhaps, he could even father a child to carry on his bloodline.

That was why Kairi Sisigou desired the Holy Grail.

"I see."

After listening to Kairi’s story, Mordred merely let out an ambiguous murmur.

"What’s with that reaction? I just laid bare the shameful past of my entire family, and you’re still dissatisfied?"

"—Nothing. So, in the end, you want the Holy Grail for the sake of continuing your family line, huh?"

"If you were expecting some unimaginably bizarre tale or a tear-jerking tragedy, I’m afraid I can’t oblige."

"Hmph..."

Perhaps because the ceiling was too low, Mordred felt strangely stifled as she tilted her head back to gaze upward, as though the world were slowly pressing down on her.

Maybe to escape this suffocating sensation, her thoughts wandered back to what she had just heard.

A contract with something, generations of glory and inevitable decline, and then—

"Hey, Master, can I ask you one last question?"

"If it’s something I can answer."

"That adopted daughter who died... do you still remember her?"

After a long silence, Kairi Sisigou muttered softly:

"In life, there are some things you must never forget."

His low, calm voice echoed through the narrow cavern. In those words lay an emotional weight absent when he had spoken of his wish for the Holy Grail.

—His desire for the Holy Grail was not for the prosperity of his family’s descendants.

—Not because he desired the Holy Grail, nor because he wanted to etch the name "Sisigou" into history.

—It was simply to give meaning to what must never be forgotten, to what must never have been sacrificed in vain.

That was the sound of an oath. A pride that must be defended, even at the cost of one’s dignity and life.

"Is that so?"

"Are you satisfied now?"

"Yeah, very much so. Master—let’s claim the Holy Grail."

In the darkness, Mordred and Kairi lightly bumped fists before turning their gaze back to the ceiling, their wild, lion-like eyes gleaming.

This is just fine, Master.

As long as your wish exists—I can stand firm before the King of Knights and wield my sword for you.