Reborn in Type-Moon: Starting by Adopting Sakura - Chapter 51

Yuu wore the Night Veil, and to any observer—even a first-rate magus—he appeared utterly ordinary. Perfect camouflage, though it came with the annoying side effect of blocking his own magical senses. But that's what he had Serenity for anyway.

Miss Ba shuffled over with steaming plates of mapo tofu. He blinked at what she set before him. The dish looked like a volcanic disaster zone—red chili powder heaped so high it resembled a miniature mountain range, with pale cubes of tofu scattered across the surface like survivors clinging to life rafts.

This wasn't mapo tofu. This was weaponized capsaicin with a tofu garnish.

Still, he'd faced worse odds.

He flexed his gloved fingers—the ones hiding his Command Seals—and picked up a white porcelain spoon. The priest at the neighboring table wore gloves too. Not surprising. Fuyuki’s winter mornings could freeze breath mid-exhale, turning the streets into an arctic wasteland that made anyone passing through reconsider every life choice that had brought them there.

"Could I get a bowl of rice?" Yuu asked the petite shop owner.

Miss Ba nodded. "Rice will have to be cooked separately. Please wait a bit."

Yuu paused. What kind of restaurant had to cook rice separately? That was like a bakery having to bake bread to order. By the time the rice arrived, his mapo tofu would be stone cold and twice as deadly.

Meanwhile, the young priest had already started attacking the dish. He ate like a man on a mission, shoveling the blazing hot food into his mouth without stopping. Sweat poured down his face, but he didn't even reach for water—just kept consuming the inferno as if his eternal salvation depended on it.

"Wait, forget the rice," Yuu told Miss Ba. He raised his spoon and began eating, maintaining the same composed expression he'd wear while examining ancient artifacts.

In no time at all, both plates were scraped clean and both men looked like they'd been dragged through a monsoon. Sweat dripped from their chins, their faces flushed crimson, but neither had surrendered.

When their eyes met, they both smiled with that rare understanding that only came from staring death in the face together.

In the priest's gaze was respect and admiration; in Yuu's, encouragement and appreciation. Men who could handle this level of culinary torture were a dying breed in Japan. Most people treated mild wasabi like it was radioactive.

They hadn't spoken a word, yet the air between them was warm and oddly comfortable. Like they'd just completed some ancient masculine ritual involving pain tolerance.

‘The priests of Fuyuki Church were good people,’ Yuu decided as he settled the bill and stepped outside. He'd definitely return, assuming his taste buds recovered from their current state of shell shock.

The mapo tofu had been spicier than he expected, but the flavor was genuinely authentic, and the owner clearly knew her way around Sichuan spices.

Crossing the street, he bought a bag of taiyaki from a vendor. The mapo tofu might have been delicious, but without rice, it had left him with a stomach full of fire and very little actual substance. The sweet fish-shaped pastries would help restore some semblance of normalcy to his digestive system.

…

Evening sunlight danced across the rippling blue sea, painting the horizon in soft orange where water met sky. A silver ocean liner pushed through the waves, its engines rumbling louder as it approached the international port and finally settled against the dock.

Saber materialized beside his Master Kayneth.

Diarmuid Ua Duibhne—the legendary warrior from Celtic myth, first spear of the Irish Fianna Knights. History remembered him as equally deadly with spear or sword, raised by both the God of Love Aengus and the Sea God Manannán. The man was also famously beautiful, which had caused him no small amount of trouble during his mortal life.

This time, he'd been summoned as a Saber rather than his more common Lancer class. While he'd mastered the spear, his true expertise lay with the blade. The Saber class brought out his full potential as a mythic hero, granting access to multiple divine-forged Noble Phantasms. Summoning him in this form had cost Kayneth considerably more resources than the standard Lancer variant, but the investment was worth it.

His troublesome Love Spot skill was dormant in this manifestation. With his strongest sword in hand, he could suppress the supernatural charm that had once made him irresistible to women—and had led to his downfall.

Kayneth adjusted his grip on the suitcase and slipped into the luxury car waiting on the asphalt. Inside that case sat a magical energy reactor—his masterpiece.

Living up to his reputation as the Clock Tower’s youngest prodigy, Kayneth had modified the Holy Grail’s summoning system. Normally, Master and Servant shared a single magical connection, forcing the Master to constantly supply mana to the Servant. Kayneth had split those functions, rerouting the energy supply to his custom reactor while keeping the Command Spells for himself.

The result? His Servant enjoyed a stable power source, while Kayneth’s own magical energy remained free for other projects. Most magi would consider such a modification somewhere between brilliant and insane, but Kayneth had made it happen.

In the suitcase, alongside the reactor, sat the Volumen Hydrargyrum—El-Melloi's supreme Mystic Code. Kayneth's personal favorite, a mass of mercury he'd transmuted into something that could attack, defend, and scout all at once. The rest of his magical arsenal had already been shipped ahead to his hotel in Fuyuki. No point in traveling heavy when you could afford proper logistics.

"Saber, why so cautious?" Kayneth straightened his shoulders, voice carrying a note of reproach.

Diarmuid wasn't being overly cautious, just smart. He kept his spiritual presence muted—not Assassin-level stealth, but enough to shrink his detection range to something manageable.

"My lord, the moment we set foot here, we are on the battlefield.”

Kayneth let out a dismissive laugh. "Battlefield? This little rural tournament? Don't confuse a country fair with real warfare. We're here to enjoy the local scenery and collect our prize. Nothing more complex than that."

Diarmuid bowed his head. "My apologies, my lord. Your confidence puts my caution to shame."

"Let your presence be known." Kayneth waved a hand. "If any fool decides to test us, we'll crush them before dessert. Saves us the trouble of hunting them down later."

"As you command."

The twin swords appeared on Diarmuid's back, and his spiritual presence blazed to life.

Kayneth nodded approvingly. "Much better. I'm the strongest magus here. You're the strongest Saber. No point pretending otherwise."

The luxury car rolled into Fuyuki City as the first streetlights flickered to life, carrying two very confident men toward what they assumed would be an easy victory.