Chapter Twenty-One: Zouken Matou, Faithful to His Promise

Matou Kariya reached out and crawled out of the cold, damp nest of worms, numbly expelling the insects that had burrowed into his ears.

With only his hands for support, he climbed up onto the platform with ease, silently donning the clothes that had been left there for him.

When he reached the top of the stairs and opened the ornate, dazzling doors to the living room, it was no surprise to Matou Kariya that he found that shadow waiting.

Or rather, hidden within the shadows, the short, elderly man.

The grand reception hall, arranged according to the owner’s taste, was sparsely furnished—beyond the necessary decorations, there was little else, leaving the vast space feeling utterly desolate.

In the sitting room, not a single light was lit; the only illumination came from the moon outside. In that dim atmosphere, it was nearly impossible to make out anything at all.

But for Matou Kariya, who had replaced his own eyes with those of his familiar insects, this was no obstacle.

“How are you feeling today?”

From the old man’s lips came a hoarse voice, one that hardly sounded human.

“The same as always. The worms in my body have been changed, and the crest worm’s condition is excellent.”

A year ago, Matou Kariya had returned to the Matou estate to prepare for the Holy Grail War. He had expected that, given the old worm’s twisted sense of amusement, he would be tormented even more during his training, but to his surprise, aside from the necessary pain, nothing else happened.

In fact, he had grown immeasurably stronger than before—both in combat and in magecraft. Though at first he had been so horrified by the plan to replace his body with worms, leaving only his heart and brain, that he had vomited, the results spoke for themselves.

The crest worm had supplemented his inferior magical circuits. Transforming his body into a nest of insects had not only increased his survivability but also allowed him to switch familiars at will. In this state, it was no longer a dream to simultaneously sustain a high-maintenance Servant and engage in magecraft battles.

According to the old worm, this was part of his own immortality technique. If not for his goals, he would never have wasted such precious resources on Kariya.

Though he had paid the price of being left with only a month to live, during that month, Matou Kariya’s strength would surely shock any magus who had ever looked down on him.

Given these circumstances, setting aside conventional ideas, having an insect nest as part of his workshop was not unacceptable.

“Could this really be the true secret of the Matou lineage?”

Recalling the scenes from childhood of flesh devoured by insects, Kariya could not help but feel a twinge of doubt.

“Of course not. The true inheritance, famed for its command over the element of water, is beyond the understanding of someone like you. Feeding insects with flesh is merely a degraded form of magecraft, a result of your lack of talent.”

At the mention of this, Zouken Matou gave a cold snort. “If it weren’t for useless descendants like you, I wouldn’t have had to adopt a child from the Tohsaka family.”

“Now even the heir I never cared about has become problematic. If I don’t find another way, the Matou bloodline will end with me.”

Kariya paid no attention to Zouken’s rambling. Even if his emotions had dulled with the replacement of his organs, the obsession in his heart still burned fiercely.

“Sakura—where is she? My transformation is complete. You haven’t broken your promise, have you?”

“Of course not. How could I deceive my dear child?” Zouken’s gaze fell on Kariya, as if admiring a piece of art worthy of praise.

Zouken clapped his hands lightly, and a girl in a purple dress entered quietly. She possessed a doll-like beauty, her adorableness belying her true age.

Yet her eyes, lifeless and numb, empty as if devoid of a soul, were a sorrowful sight.

“Sakura!”

Kariya hurried toward her, his palm splitting open as a worm slipped out, fluttering gently around Matou Sakura.

“Uncle Kariya…”

The girl, Matou Sakura, lifted her head. When she saw the insect, her gaze contracted slightly, but she still answered.

“I’m sorry, Sakura. Did I frighten you?”

Kariya wanted to reach out to her, but remembering the state of his own body, he lowered his hand in silence, letting the worm return to him as he absorbed the information it brought.

Watching Kariya’s struggle and grotesque torment, Zouken’s lips curled into a twisted smile, and he let out a chilling, raspy sound.

“Well, Kariya, don’t you think coming back a year ago was worth it? You saved the Tohsaka girl before she was thrown into the worm pit. She is exactly as she was a year ago—not once has she set foot in the pit. Does this not prove my sincerity?”

“Then what’s wrong with her now?”

“Oh dear, have you forgotten our agreement?” Zouken’s words were laced with mock affection, but his tone was utterly devoid of warmth, full of warped strangeness.

“I haven’t touched the Tohsaka girl at all. But she bears the Matou name now—she came here as the Matou heir. Therefore, it was necessary to educate her about her lineage and current situation.”

“However, it seems the terror was too much for her spirit to bear—she’s closed herself off, barely speaking a word.”

“You bastard!”

“No, you’re the bastard. If you were more useful, the Matou family wouldn’t be in such a predicament. Even if I had thrown that girl into the worm pit, wouldn’t you still have obediently joined this war? So, you know what you need to do, don’t you?”

As if to demonstrate, Zouken emitted a guttural, loathsome sound. At that, the worms inside Kariya began to writhe and squirm, forcing him to his knees in pain.

“I understand. I’ll kill that man, Darnic, at once.”

Kariya gritted his teeth, an expression of grim resolve on his face.

“You’d better. Because the moment you fail, this child will be thrown into the worm pit, to undergo the transformation that should have begun a year ago.”

“And until then, you won’t lay a hand on her. And after I kill him, you’ll let Sakura leave the Matou family, won’t you?”

“I promise.”

“Then let’s get on with it. Berserker’s relic should be ready.”

Determined to avoid further emotional disturbance, Kariya steeled himself, ignored Sakura, and once more headed toward the underground workshop.

“Kariya has grown up at last,”

Zouken chuckled as he looked up, gazing at the little girl beside him, who stood as still as a doll.

“Sakura, you’ve learned self-hypnosis, haven’t you? And your magical circuits can function normally now?”

“Yes, Grandfather.”

Sakura answered with indifference.

“Well, the mana output isn’t great, but considering its imaginary number attribute, it should be enough to support Caster.”

A malicious thought flickered through Zouken’s mind, and picturing Kariya’s face in the future, he could not help but let out a moist, gleeful laugh.

He was a man of his word: if he said Sakura would leave the Matou family, then so she would—he had even fulfilled this condition ahead of schedule.

However, he had never said she would be returned to the Tohsaka family after leaving, had he?

He needed Kariya’s strength, but as for such childish hopes and so-called kindness—Zouken felt it was his duty to punish such delusions among his descendants.

“In a few days, come outside with Grandfather,” Zouken said, posing as a kindly old man. “I’ll introduce you to a new friend. After that, he’ll be responsible for everything about you.”

With that, Zouken glanced at Sakura’s pale, lovely hands and sneered.

“Grandfather guarantees that man will be very fond of you. But perhaps, when the time comes, you’ll wish you’d jumped into the worm pit of your own accord.”