Chapter. 04 Mark of ten eyes.

"What a miserable bunch!" yelled Masaki Yosotaro in his lab. Glasses and other utensils tipped over to the side under the eighty wood. "Instead, that fringed Kayneth gets the chance. Arg, I could pull my hair out. The Grail is broken. It must be broken; how else could it not choose me?"

The crack of wood could be heard in the room as the man jumped up and threw his chair backward. But the frustration that surrounded him only reached new heights when his face swelled with anger. Not much bigger than a 20-square-meter room, there was only one person in the room, so there was no one who could have heard the screams. And yet the walls shook with each pounding, and one could think a vampire raged around. The few incandescent lamps flickered and pulled parchments scattered on the floor back into the light from the darkness.

For years, Masaki had been preparing for this moment. Plans, traps, and compressed mana in his mystic code. And what was the point of it all? He kept asking himself. He was not chosen. Yet his determination was unchallenged. No one could match him. At least, that's what he believed. If Masaki could trust his sources, there should be one place still unoccupied. He had performed the ritual without success, hoping that the Grail would choose him for his efforts.

It was as if the Grail embraced him and actively sabotaged him. And yet he needed the Grail so much. Only a miracle could save his family now. Hina and Haruto, his two children, did not have the potential that he desired. But even over the next few days, his anger did not subside. And it was difficult for him to travel on the plane.

Now he moved through the streets, sitting inside a black car. His back pressed against the fine leather of the seats, and his arms were crossed to make his displeasure clear.

Masaki had always striven and always reached for the stars. "So why were my children born with a lack of fire affinity?" He cursed, his voice shaking the windows. The woman driving him to his estate flinched at the barking voice. Her master was particularly irritated today, so her lips were tightly welded together to avoid the wrath she would surely receive at the mansion.

If fire had been the only element his children possessed, Masaki's tantrums might have been milder, but both were born without an affinity for fire. For Masaki, this was unbearable.

The magic circles and qualities of both children were excellent, and every other family would be more than happy to welcome them. The family had specialized in the magic of fire for generations. Since neither possessed it, Masaki was worried about the house's downfall in the distant future. Nevertheless, Hina and Haruto had extraordinary talents. Although they were denied the fire affinity, they both possessed affinities for the four other elements given to them at birth. The children were anything but failures. But they were not suited for the house of Yosotaro.

Masaki hoped the Holy Grail would correct this flaw and provide him with a child wilding unimaginable firepower and wisdom. A power that gives Masaki's house an infinitely high reputation.

Every day Masaki longed for the red mark that would finally appear on his hand until one day, God would bless him.

The car stopped in front of a luxurious villa. Through the tinted windows, one could not see inside the vehicle. Slowly, the door opened, and a muscular man in a dark kimono entered the street. His facial expression was distorted, and the eyes were protected under glasses that hid red eyes, wanting to burn the surroundings. The mansion, his parents' old family home, lay at his feet. Masaki hated to come to this place. For him, nothing but losers lived here. Masaki's children, who lacked the fire element, and his wife, who was unable to give birth to a sensible successor

Two cherry blossom trees stood at the gate, which was already open, and flower beds stretched across the meadows as a lovely smell enveloped the surroundings. Izumi, his wife, regularly took care of the garden. The door to his seat opened as Kimiko stood by the side, and Masaki slowly got out of the car. He breathed in the fiery air of the cherry blossoms. He knew the two cherry blossom trees from his childhood, and it is said that the two trees have been standing since the founding of the Yosotaro family.

"Kimiko, please carry my materials to the basement and put them on the table in the middle," Masaki asked his chauffeur, who was wearing a red suit and had gray hair.

"Yes, sir," Kimiko bowed before she walked toward the trunk.

Masaki couldn't have cared less about her. She was merely an employee. In his eyes, she should at least consider herself lucky to have found work here. Behind Masaki, Kimiko took several suitcases out of the car. With a quick step, he crossed the path and reached the fort, from which the dark paint coating was already threatening to peel off. Masaki opened the gate and walked into his property, where his wife Izumi was already waiting. The green grass fluttered in the wind, and the tall bushes transformed into godlike statues that swayed to greet the home-grown master. However, Masaki did not waste an eye on useless things and followed the path toward the towering house.

"Nice to see you again. I hope you had a pleasant trip, my love?" She smiled like flowers while the wind carried her black hair.

'As if you care.' However, he did not speak his thoughts aloud.

"Of course, everything went fine. I'm glad to be back." Masaki forced a smile to his lips, but the glasses on his nose obscured his constricted pupils. He could hear his children, who had not come to greet him, playing in the back garden. 'I guess I'll have to teach them some manners.' His children should at least have the decency to greet him, even if he has a bad relationship with them.

"How nice. "How about you give me the bag? You surely had a long flight, didn't you?" She asked worriedly, taking his bag. His gaze lingered on Izumi for a few seconds. She was a master of the facade. She looked at him with such innocence and purity. But Masaki knew better. 'I will not fall for your trickery. It is your contacts that prevent my participation in the Grail War.'

"Good staff is getting worse, too. What am I paying for anyway if the flights are delayed? Hopefully, some of my materials are still cold enough; if not, they'll get what they deserve."

Masaki noticed Kamiko push past him and walk straight toward the basement. He took off his shoes and hung his coat on the coat rack.

"That can't be helped; how about you eat something first?"

"I don't have time for that. Just get something ready for me; I'll be back up in an hour. 'Or not,' he added in his mind.

"By the way, I won't be home for the next few days, so you'll have to take care of everything."

This surprised Masaki. "And where are you going, if you don't mind my asking?" Izumi never left the house, so something extraordinary must have happened.

"I'm going to visit my parents, that's all." Her smile sparkled with joy through the sun's rays in the glass. It was a rare sight that almost made Masaki dream. Izumi only smiled when she was genuinely looking forward to something. That was a rarity in the Yosotaro household.

Masaki turned away from Izumi and headed down the stairs. "I'll come to say goodbye to you later."

Masaki heard a sigh before he finally disappeared into the basement. Time was running out for him, and if he didn't become master soon, he would really have to give one of his incompetent children the family Crest. And that was something Masaki wanted to avoid at all costs. He might as well try to father another child with Izumi. The old staircase creaked and was long past its expiration date. But no one had time for that.

When Masaki arrived downstairs, Komiko was already sorting all the substances into the cupboard. On the table at the end of the room were already some catalysts. He had purchased them to perform the ritual one last time. Masaki grabbed the first catalyst and placed it in the center of the circle. A piece of wood he had been able to obtain at short notice. It should have once been part of the ship of a great explorer.

'As usual, I guess the ritual doesn't want to start today either. What did I do to deserve this?' Masaki growled inwardly, as he had already almost lost all hope. Despite various catalysts, he probably wouldn't be able to participate in the war anymore.

Masaki said the words, desperately trying to perform the incantation with his prana. But deep inside, he knew that without the support of the Grail, he would not succeed in the summoning. The circle glowed a few times, and then complete darkness fell. Darkness and silence almost seemed to overwhelm him. It was as if fate had already decided.

Masaki had failed. The fates had drawn a line. For him, a respected magus, to be humiliated like that was almost unbearable. Masaki just stood there, not knowing what to do. The other catalysts would not change the outcome. Masaki wondered if perhaps it was his family's fate to perish. But what had he done wrong? Was it his engagement to his wife? Or did fate not want to continue spinning his thread? Masaki was perplexed for the first time.

Komiko looked at her lord, who stared at the circle on the floor as if in a trance. She knew little about magic, but Masaki forbade her to speak about it. She knew it was something important. Important enough that she would probably be killed should she utter a syllable.

For several minutes, Komiko waited. All the items and documents had been neatly sorted. After Masaki showed no signs of moving, she decided to leave the room and prepare food. The door was closed quietly and carefully, without even a sound that made the air tremble.

Masaki had never experienced difficulties before. With his status, he could handle anything. He had never learned to deal with failure, and in his desperation to change the family's fate, he strove for the Grail. His prana was exhausted. And his bones were tired from the wear and tear of his mind. Day and night, he worked on his wish. Only now did he realize how much it had gnawed at him.

Masaki was chasing a wish he could never have achieved. He was merely chasing a fantasy, and someday he would realize that his quest for power was nothing more than an eternal illusion. A path that Masaki would walk forever and that would wear him out to death. But he could not stop. And if he were to be faced with this decision again, there would be no doubt. For his family's legacy, he would do anything. 'I would even make a deal with the devil if it meant achieving my goal.' Those were his motivation, his faith, and his will.

"Arg!"

Masaki's entire body convulsed as a white-hot object burned onto his wrist. At first, he cursed at the pain. But then it dawned on him. In the corner of his eye, a sign slowly manifested itself on his skin. His devilish grin almost tore the corners of his mouth. Whatever demon had heard his prayer, he thanked him with all his heart.

White spider legs crawled onto his hand. Eight white legs and ten red eyes manifested. The body became visible and covered the entire back of his hand. "What in God's name is this?" Masaki's concern about dealing with a demon was subdued by curiosity and the mark's presence.

White lines stretched across his body like the threads of a spider. He did not see them as his eye could not perceive the spiritual body.

With his head between both hands, Masaki rolled in agony. His skin became pale, like the afterlife, to which the souls migrated after their deaths. Knowledge from afar became ingrained in his soul; knowledge about places, circles, and magic itself, which even Odin could not understand.

Time passed by before Masaki regained consciousness. It was not possible to tell the time in this isolated room. Outside, night had already fallen. The moon shone down on the house in a silver light. Only his growling stomach led him to believe that hours had passed.

Masaki looked at his hand. The spider, sparkling elegantly like a diamond on his skin, filled him with pride. Pride, Masaki had never felt before. The circle in front of his feet suddenly looked so primitive. It wasn't wrong, but something told Masaki to perform another ritual. It was a special incantation for the most powerful servant the world had ever seen.

His eyes were red with obsession. Masaki needed his servant as soon as possible. The powerful bloodline that flowed through his veins would shake the foundations of war.

Masaki opened his cupboards, pulling out old items he would never have needed. Some things were still missing, and he would have to get them by tomorrow. His hand wandered over the spider's marrow, and it disappeared before his eyes. His eyes had popped out. How did he know how to cast spells so powerful that even the crystallized prana was obscured? Masaki himself was not sure.

He shook his head. There were more pressing matters. For the ritual, he needed energy, and ten eyes, of which two would have to have a special bond with him and blood from his bloodline. A grin that made Masaki look like a demon hung on his face as a splendid idea came to his mind.