Fate/Magus Path

"Have you ever envied others?"

"Envied others' talents, gifts, or status?"

"Have you ever felt regret because of abilities you lack? Or experienced loss due to your own mistakes, missing out on wealth and opportunities?"

Who is this...?

In a daze, the man's familiar voice echoed in his ears.

"Jealousy, envy, and the tears of regret born from coveting others' opportunities."

"The world has never been bright, and fate has never been fair. How extravagant is the experience of so-called equality?"

The voice had a deep, penetrating tone, resounding in Roy's ears, refusing to fade.

"No need to answer. The answer in your heart has yet to be revealed."

"Don't look away, for everyone possesses it, and no one can escape."

"Envy for others, sighing at your own fate and its injustices, these give birth to original sins, and the tears of regret have already flowed from the corners of your eyes."

In his deep sleep, Roy heard a man's voice babbling in his ears. His sleep was restless, and after several frustrated turns, he slowly opened his eyes.

As he lifted his head, he realized he was staring at a dark fortress.

"The Prison Tower!"

Fully awake, Roy began to recall the voice. He now recognized it... except for the absence of the familiar demonic laugh, the tone was identical to that of the Count. The only reason he hadn't recognized it earlier was due to his sleepy state, but now fully alert, he pieced it all together.

Unbelievable, the Prison Tower event had been recreated!

He had somehow ended up in the same situation as Fujimaru Ritsuka, pulled into the Count's Prison Tower event while dreaming.

"Already awake? You've surprised me. It seems you have an unexpectedly good affinity with this prison tower, no wonder you were able to summon me."

"Count?"

"That's right, it's me, the man you call the Count of Monte Cristo, the true ghost of vengeance, Edmond Dantès."

"Welcome to this island of despair for sinners, the Prison Tower, young man!"

"In this tower lies the boundary of grace and hatred. Once you enter, regardless of whether you are a grave sinner or an innocent soul, every type of spirit will be imprisoned here!"

"And of course, you are no exception."

From the shadows emerged a silver-haired man in a green cloak, stepping out from a dark corner as he spoke.

"This is the First Gate, home to the sin of envy. Right now, you are trapped here, sinking into the mire with no escape. All your pain gathers here... sorrow, anger, grief. The voices of despair never cease. This is a living hell on Earth from which no one can escape. Do you understand?"

The cold, eerie prison was filled with writhing worms and rats crawling on the floor, mixed with the distant screams of evil spirits and lost souls. The atmosphere was terrifying.

"..."

Contrary to the Count's expectations, Roy did not cry out in despair or panic. Seeing how seriously the Count was acting, he actually felt like laughing.

He ignored the Count, who was still theatrically performing, and instead calmly reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it for a deep drag.

Faced with such a situation, he chose to calm down by smoking.

"Have you given up? Succumbed to despair?"

"In this hell, death and despair intertwine. Any glimmer of hope will be swallowed whole. Sinners of this world will fall here, eternally tormented. Evil spirits, the dead, despair... no beauty exists here. But you, you are different. You hold a chance for salvation, you-"

"Stop."

Roy extinguished his cigarette, glanced back at the Count, and said, "Spare me all this convoluted backstory. Just tell me, why did you bring me here? That's enough."

"Imprison you here? Me? Haha, what a funny joke, Krahahaha…"

That sudden burst of laughter confirmed it for Roy. He had not been mistaken... this was indeed the infamous man with the demonic laugh that he had summoned.

"You came here on your own. This fortress isn't as easy to enter as you think. I'm not sure how you became linked to me, but even your soul has been drawn into this hell. All of this was your own choice."

"Intruder, what is it that you seek?"

So he doesn't have any memory? Or maybe these two Counts aren't the same…

Although the Count's long-winded speech hadn't clarified Roy's situation, it did make him realize something else.

Rubbing the back of his hand where the Command Seals had vanished, Roy now had a clearer idea of what had happened.

It was likely the same situation as Fujimaru Ritsuka's.

Staring at the vengeful ghost in front of him, wearing a mocking smile, Roy continued, "No need to tell me all that. Just let me know where the enemies are."

"Huh?"

The Count paused for a moment, then burst into laughter, applauding Roy.

"Is that so? Even in the depths of hell, you're not panicking but instead clearly assessing the situation and thinking of a way out? I must say, I'm impressed with you."

"As I mentioned before, this is the Isle of Despair, the Prison Tower. It is both the far shore of revenge and the breeding ground of sin. Your enemies have already arrived, drawn by the scent of sin..."

"Sin…"

*Creak*

With the sound of the heavy iron door of the dungeon being pushed open, something was released.

At the same time, the howls of demons echoed from a distance.

The Count sat back in his chair, pointing towards the demons drawn by the scent, and said, "Why not start with them? In this Prison Tower, only the wandering souls of despair linger. And this fresh, living body of yours is naturally their first choice. Now they've found you!"

"But don't panic. They're just dead spirits; they lack the ability to possess your soul. They envy all living things... especially you! They're all coming for you, so what will you do?"

The Count's tone was filled with madness, performing as if he were in an opera, indulging in a frenzied show.

Watching the numerous demons rushing towards him and hearing their screeching cries, Roy felt no fear. The Count's smile remained as he stood up, clapping his hands as if concluding a performance, then took a step forward, shielding Roy.

"You're lucky or maybe unlucky to have gotten involved with me and been dragged into the Prison Tower. But in this hell, you've met me, the ghost of vengeance. Now, do you need help? I am the vengeful spirit born from despair, filled with hatred and curses, carrying the world's most wicked flames. You can call me A·venger."

"Of course, Count of Monte Cristo." Roy nodded slightly, extending his hand.

"Hmm?"

The young man's smile caused the Count to be momentarily distracted, but before he realized it, his hand had already clasped Roy's, and a red glow slowly appeared on the back of Roy's hand.

The three crimson Command Spells reappeared.

At that moment, another contract was established.

"It seems you understand the situation here, my new Master."

"More or less. If I want to leave, I just need to fight my way through here, right?"

Roy nodded, not denying the Count's words.

As a Master who had gone through the Prison Tower event before, he was naturally familiar with the process. In short, it was about fighting through different trials, defeating the enemies under the Count's guidance, and only the final victor could escape.

"A simple and clear understanding. But you're right. For the prisoners here, only by passing all the trials can their souls be liberated. On the other hand, if they die, their souls will truly perish."

Roar

Pitch-black, poisonous flames shot out along their paths with terrifying speed, instantly piercing the heads of several spirits at the front. Without a chance to scream, they turned to ash in the cursed flames.

After a fierce battle, countless spirits were reduced to ashes by the flames. These fragile souls stood no chance before the terrifying fire.

In the end, only Roy and the Count remained, standing amidst the ashes in the dark, decayed prison, gazing ahead with indifference.

"They were weak opponents. Your sin of envy is much lighter than I expected—what an upright man you are, Master."

"But, can you keep fighting like this? Are you holding up, Master?"

The floor was covered with scattered ashes, and the Count glanced at the exhausted and disheveled Roy with some concern. Although the enemies weren't strong, facing such a large army of spirits made it difficult even for him to protect his Master completely. Not to mention, he had deliberately let one or two weaker spirits through.

But from the start of the battle until now, even though Roy had been chased so miserably by the spirits, even though his life was in danger, he never once interrupted the Count's fight or dragged him down. A Master like that was truly rare.

No wonder they had formed a bond.

No, someone like him could probably get along well with any Servant.

The Count quickly snapped out of his thoughts, a smile forming at the corner of his mouth.

"Who would've thought, my Master turned out to be unexpectedly remarkable."