This space is a complete world.
Darkness and spots of light.
In the center of the wide spherical room stained black by the night sky, a wooden chair was floating.
Although the shape alone is luxurious, the faded wood has a certain charm, and it does not give people a sense of luxury that is offensive. Instead, it can transform the surrounding atmosphere into a more solemn one simply by existing here.
At first glance, it looks like a special seat for a prince or noble. But if that were the case, this chair shouldn't have such a strong sense of presence, so strong that even if a head of state sat on it, he would be considered an accessory of the chair, not the owner of the chair. If an ordinary person sat on this chair, he would probably be instantly swallowed up by the sense of presence it exudes.
This is a chair that makes people think so.
This space is prepared to celebrate this chair.
The current situation makes it necessary to accept such an evaluation even if one hears it, but—
The man, who was surrounded by a more solemn aura than the chair, was making the backrest of the chair creak loudly.
"Hmm..."
If this room is a miniature of the universe, then the man sitting on the chair in the center of the room has an aura that is commensurate with his status as the owner.
This is an elder, who looks to be about 50 to 60 years old. Although his hair and beard are all white, his back is straight. His sturdy figure is more oppressive than that of a middle-aged man in his prime. The wrinkles on his forehead, eyebrows and corners of his eyes add a touch of vicissitudes of life to the old man, but he does not have the old age that an elderly person should have.
The most impressive thing is the old man’s eyes. It has nothing to do with pupil color, nor do they have any special features. They are just deep and profound, just like the starry sky around the old man, with no end in sight, as if these eyes contain countless mysteries.
The old man's name was Kishua Zelrich Shubain-Ogu.
In the secular world, he is not well-known, but in the mysterious world, he is well-known to everyone.
The name itself represents a legend. People either admire him, or fear him, or for various purposes, have given him various titles, such as the Second Magician, the Supreme Magician, the Magic Marshal, the Jewel Master, the Fourth Seat of the Twenty-Seven Dead Apostles. He is truly a man standing at the top of the mysterious side.
"This axis is wrong..."
The old man slid the fingers of his right hand in the air, causing the celestial bodies reflected on the surrounding walls to rotate.
"Is this polarized light also completely extinguished?"
"Oh, that's a pretty good cut..."
Then, the pages of the book floating in front of the old man turned up in coordination with his movements, recording all kinds of "information" in real time.
There are strange patterns painted on the title page of the book, as if there are countless concentric circles stacked on top of each other, and dense lines radiating outward from the center of the circle.
Some of these lines extend to the outermost circle and continue to diverge outward, while others stop at one layer.
The thickness of the book is about the same as that of an ordinary encyclopedia.
It is so huge, but every time the old man slides his fingers, thousands or tens of thousands of pages appear and disappear.
The old man continued this work for a while, and seemed to have discovered something, and the old man's fingers paused.
"Hmm? This is—"
The rapidly flipping pages stopped, and the expression that had originally only slightly fluctuated finally showed a noticeable change.
On the opened page, there is a boy who looks like a mixed race of Eastern and Western people.
The cloak covering his body, short dark blue curly hair, and deep blue eyes constitute the boy's most obvious features.
There is a red mark on the blank part of the page - Project I Experimental Subject, No. 13.
The old man stared at the boy on the page quietly, motionless, and the entire spherical space seemed to be stagnant.
I don’t know how much time has passed, maybe a few minutes, or maybe a few hours. In this spherical space, there is no way of knowing the passage of time.
The old man exhaled slowly, and the stagnant space finally resumed operation.
"Finally, one of the experimental subjects has produced some results. In Project I, only three of the thirteen experimental subjects are still observable. The rest either died due to accidents or lost their future due to quantum fixation."
"The soul that the young man who claimed to be from Semria sent specially, a soul that was not originally in my plan... Is this the variable he found to change the future?"
"No. 13, let me see how far you can go, but before that—"
The old man shifted his gaze from the pages of the book to his left hand.
There is a ring on the thumb of his left hand, and the gemstone on the ring surface contains powerful magical power.
Along with a burst of magical light, a deep, magnetic female voice came from the ring.
"I think it's about time you contacted me, Zelrich."
"You remain as perceptive as ever, Queen Scathach."
A long-lost smile appeared on the old man's face, and the laughter passed through the jewel ring, transcending the barriers of time and space.
"Then you should know why I contacted you."
"About the third magic creation, 'Heavenly Grail'? Or about one of my new disciples?"
"Both, the third magic, and the child are an attempt."
There was an inexplicable sonority and sadness in the old man's voice. Only Scathach, who had mastered the cause and effect of the world and had also lived for a long time, could understand that feeling. She didn't say anything more and went straight to the point.
"'Heaven's Grail' is indeed the same as your second magic, a power that can influence the world. But 'Heaven's Grail' alone is not enough. It is just power. If there is no magician like you to wield it, it will be tainted with other colors sooner or later. If things continue like this, the power of miracles will disappear one day."
"You're right, that's why it needs to be purified."
Hearing the old man's answer, Scathach let out a soft "Oh".
"It seems that you have grasped some key."
"Yes." The old man nodded calmly, "But I can't intervene in this matter directly. If I interfere too much, the world is likely to be completely determined, so I need to choose a suitable executor."
"No need to choose, he can do the job."
The old man knew very well that the person he was referring to was the character on the page of the book spread out in front of him.
"Are you sure he can? This is not an easy job."
"That's why it's him. He said he would fulfill my wish. If I can't even overcome this obstacle, how can I end my eternity?"
Scathach's attitude told the old man the answer to another question.
"It seems I don't need to ask for his evaluation anymore."
"Let me make this clear first. You can let him work, but you are not allowed to accept him as your disciple. There is not much difference between him becoming your disciple and becoming a useless person. I finally see a little hope. If it is shattered because of you, you can just wait for my 'extinction thorn'."
"Keep that in mind, Majesty Scathach."
The old man's attitude was neither humble nor arrogant. He waved his right hand, and the red mark on the page changed.
"H Project executor, I Project experimental subject—Matou Shinji!"