Type-Moon: Shinji Matou Also Wants to Be the Protagonist

"We should go home."

The silver-haired maid nodded slightly and silently retreated into the shadows.

Weber noticed that her steps were almost eerily light, and her presence was much weaker than yesterday.

If Shinji hadn't reminded him, he would have almost forgotten that there was a maid by his side.

This discovery gave Weber a real scare.

"This is?"

"A small achievement, it's not perfect yet, but Goredia is special and can be used ahead of schedule."

Upon hearing Weber's words, Shinji replied casually.

After a night of exploring the vengeful spirit, Shinji finally couldn't resist attacking Hyakko.

After consuming three individuals of the Hundred Forms, Shinji obtained valuable data and a small fragment of his Spirit Origin.

This thing is basically useless to humans and is far from the soul-searching technique envisioned by Shinji.

However, Shinji did not waste this Assassin's spirit origin fragment.

Ordinary people can't use it, but Gretia, who herself uses the technology of creating a simulated spirit origin, can give it a try.

Shinji used the Soul Refining Technique to integrate this fragment of the Spirit Origin into Goredia's simulated Spirit Origin.

The final result was that Grandia mastered the inherent ability of the Assassin class—Presence Concealment.

Although his rank isn't as high as Hassan's A+, Shinji probably has to be at least a C.

If you disassemble all the individual appearances, you should be able to piece together a B-grade one.

However, Shinji felt that using it this way was a bit of a waste.

It's important to understand that even without the Assassin class ability, the Hassans could achieve the same effect through their own skills in life. However, Gladys's current Presence Concealment is entirely due to the magic effect of her Spirit Origin. Once the supply of magic power is stopped, she will revert to her original form.

As the saying goes, give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.

So Shinji had his eye on the Hassans' cooking skills.

Weber opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to ask for more details, but Shinji had already turned and walked towards the door.

What are your plans?

Weber quickly caught up and asked in a low voice.

"The Matou family mansion is not a place you can just barge into, especially now—"

"Especially now, there lives a Berserker corrupted by madness and a Master who is half-dead."

Shinji took over the conversation, a cold smile curving his lips.

"No need to make it so complicated. This time, it's all up to you, Rider."

Turning to Iskandar, he said:

"Charge straight ahead and activate the Reality Barrier to take in everyone, no, everything, from the Matou residence."

"Then we'll slowly process them within the inherent barrier."

Iskandar was taken aback for a moment, then burst into a deafening laugh.

Hahahaha!

Weber instinctively covered his ears, a look of pain on his face.

"Fun! So fun!"

"I thought you would come up with some roundabout scheme, but I didn't expect you to be so straightforward!"

He stood up, his imposing figure casting a huge shadow in the living room.

Those piercing eyes stared directly at Shinji, burning with undisguised admiration.

"Boy, your audacity is quite to my liking!"

"It has nothing to do with courage, but we have an absolute advantage in both numbers and strength. The best strategy is to crush them head-on."

This is why Shinji sought to collaborate with Weber and Iskandar.

Shinji was not a military strategist, nor did he have the patience to slowly weave a conspiracy.

Therefore, after establishing an absolute advantage, he chose to directly pursue an F2A strategy.

Chapter 44: Going Home

"Oh dear, isn't this Kariya? Why is he lying in the corner like a dead dog?"

In the dark basement, Zouken Matou looked at the motionless figure in the corner with a mocking expression.

In fact, Matou Zouken already knew when Matou Kariya dragged his broken body back last night.

Even though Kariya was nominally his son, Zouken Matou showed no intention of helping him.

It wasn't until early this morning that Zouken Matou went into the basement, ready to see if the guy had gone astray.

"..."

Matou Kariya, huddled in the corner, did not reply.

Or rather, he now finds even something as simple as making a sound difficult.

Last night, Berserker fought Gilgamesh. The abyss-like need for magical power forced the Crest Worms in Kariya's body to frantically devour his flesh and blood to convert it into magical power, tormenting him to the point of unbearable pain.

In the end, because Gilgamesh was chasing too closely, Kariya even had to use a Command Spell to let Berserker escape.

"Hmm~, it's already scrapped? It seems we need to speed up the modification process for Sakura."

Seeing that Matou Kariya did not reply, Matou Zouken sighed in a mocking manner and said...

The name "Sakura" struck Matou Kariya's chaotic consciousness like a lightning bolt, forcibly pulling him back from the abyss of near death.

The body curled up on the cold ground trembled violently, and the internal organs, riddled with holes by the Mark Worms, seemed to reignite with a faint flame.

With all his might, he turned his sunken eyes toward the hunched old monster.

His chapped lips moved, but could only produce a hoarse sound like the friction of air.

"You old codger, I haven't failed yet."

Zang Yan looked down at him, a playful smile on his wrinkled face.

It's like a child observing a dying insect.

"No failures?"

He jabbed the cane in his hand hard into Yan Ye's hand and spun it back and forth.

But aside from a slight twitch of his finger, Matou Kariya did not react further.

"Your body looks too frail to hold on any longer."

Compared to the pain of the Marked Worms gnawing at his internal organs and nerves, the physical suffering was no longer enough to touch Kariya's numb soul.

Moreover, the feeding by the Marked Bugs had damaged his nervous system.

Whether the pain in your hand can be transmitted back to your central nervous system is another matter entirely.

"Can't hold on?"

Yan Ye's voice seemed to be squeezed out from the depths of his chest, with a hissing sound like a broken bellows.

"As long as... Sakura can leave here... I can hold on until the very end..."

Zang Yan put away his cane, a sinister glint flashing in his cloudy eyes.

"Berserker fought the Golden King last night, and his magic was completely exhausted. And you—"

The cane of the dirty inkstone sank into Yan Ye's sunken cheek.

"Your life force is almost exhausted. Even if I remove all the Crest Worms now, you won't live more than three days."

Yan Ye's pupils suddenly contracted.

However…

Zang Yan stretched out his hand, and a huge engraving insect appeared in his palm.

The insect writhed restlessly in his palm, emitting a stench like rotting flesh.

"Since you're struggling so desperately, I can offer you a little help."

"……help?"

Matou Kariya forced a mocking smile onto his face.

It was supposed to be help, but the old man didn't give him the right to refuse.

That old geezer just doesn't want this good show to end so quickly.

To Zouken Matou, Kariya's sarcasm sounded like a childish pout, utterly harmless.

He chuckled coldly twice, then prepared to stuff the Marked Insect into Kariya's mouth.

"Click~"

Just then, the basement door was opened, and the sound of the lock turning was particularly jarring in the quiet basement.

"Stop, Grandpa. If I accept your help, my poor uncle will be completely beyond saving."

Following the sound of the door opening was a familiar voice—the voice of his great-grandson, who was abroad.

"Chirp chirp chirp..."

The deathly silent basement was instantly swallowed up by the sudden burst of insect chirping, leaving no gap whatsoever.

A dense darkness seeped out from the corners of the walls and the cracks in the floor, and in that darkness, the Marking Insects emerged like a surging tide, layer upon layer, densely packed, the sound of their elytra rubbing together forming a chilling noise.

Regardless of whether the person standing outside the door at this moment is truly the docile "grandson" he remembers.

Or perhaps it's some audacious infiltrator who disguises their voice.

All of this means only one thing—someone has silently penetrated the protective barrier that the Matou family is so proud of and stepped into this territory that has been completely imbued with magic.

Therefore, the answer is clear: it is the enemy.

Rather than waiting for the other party to invade the core, it is better to proactively nip the threat in the bud.

This was Matou Zouken's judgment without hesitation.

However, when the heavy basement door was suddenly flung open by the swarm of insects he commanded, the expected intruder did not appear.

Instead, a sudden and overwhelming burst of intense light crashed in like a flood breaking through a dam!

The light was so intense and pure that it even scorched Zouken Matou's senses, which were shared by the insect swarm, leaving his "vision" in a blank void for a moment.

And when perception reconnects and the images are pieced together again and become clear.

The scorching yellow sand, swirling wildly in the sky, carries with it a dry and violent atmosphere.

It swept over all his senses ruthlessly and without explanation.

"Realistic Marble!"

As expected of a seasoned magician who has lived for hundreds of years, he keenly perceived the essence of the changes in the surrounding environment with just a slight concentration of his senses.

The hunched old man slowly raised his head, his cloudy yet sharp eyes scanning his surroundings.

They found themselves at the bottom of a vast basin made of endless yellow sand.

Looking around, he realized that it wasn't just him, but everyone in the entire Matou mansion—no, not just people.

Even the gloomy mansion itself, along with its solid foundation several meters deep, has been completely moved to this unfamiliar desert.

At this moment, he stood alone in the very center of the basin.

The scene resembled a caged beast in the ancient Roman Colosseum, awaiting an unknown verdict.

On the sand dunes rising from the edge of the basin, the family's maid, his two sons, and young Matou Sakura appeared in bewilderment.

Zouken Matou's cloudy eyes darted around rapidly, trying to make sense of this sudden turn of events.

His insect magic was greatly suppressed in the dry, scorching desert.

The Crest Bugs that were usually so at ease with the grains of sand were now huddled up listlessly, emitting painful hisses.

Just as he was becoming wary, the surrounding space changed again.