Chapter 445: Justice

On the outskirts of Dongmu City, deep within a forgotten old district, a Western‑style mansion stood, its gloom especially eerie even in the night.

The Jiantong Family's old residence.

Since the incident ten years ago, it has been completely abandoned; vines have covered the outer walls, the windows are broken, weeds overrun the courtyard, and a stale odor pervades.

Yet at this moment, in a partially collapsed Basement deep within the mansion, an ominous dark‑purple glow shines.

Jiantong Shen'er knelt on the cold, damp stone floor.

His condition was far from normal.

The seemingly courteous youth at school had vanished without a trace.

In his place stood a frantic figure with blood‑shot eyes, slightly protruding eyeballs, hair wild as weeds, and a mouth corner trembling uncontrollably.

His breathing was heavy and rapid; his fingers whitened from strain as he used a broken piece of wood stained with dark red pigment to carve a twisted, jagged Magic Array on the ground.

"Ho… ho… Grandfather… watch…"

He whispered hoarsely, like sandpaper grinding, "Those hypocritical, filthy murderers who stole your life… they are still basking in sunlight, enjoying a calm life… on what right?!"

His gaze alternated between emptiness and a terrifying, feverish intensity.

In his mind, the implanted "Memory" and "Cognition" that had been seeded since childhood twisted and grew like poisonous vines.

("Shen'er, you must remember, everything Grandfather did was for justice, to purify this filthy world…")

("Those people outside, they are greedy, selfish, foolish; they cannot comprehend our nobility and instead use the vilest means to persecute us…")

("Grandfather will one day depart, but the Flame Seed of justice must not be extinguished… you must inherit it, and in your own way, judge and execute…")

Jiantong Zangyan, that old insect‑user, before his total demise, planted a twisted seed in the young Shen'er's heart.

He fashioned himself into a tragic "Martyr", depicting ordinary society as a monster devouring beauty, and cloaked his evil Magic system based on "worms" and "plunder" as a sacred "Path of Purification".

And the outcome of the Fourth Holy Grail War ten years ago—the total defeat of Zang Yan—was, through altered information and deliberately guided misunderstandings, interpreted by Shen'er as "the righteous Grandfather was annihilated by a horde of petty men using despicable tactics."

This perception became the poison that accelerated the seed's mad growth.

He lacked the distinguished bloodline of a Magic lineage, and his constitution was not suited for cultivating high‑level Magic.

Yet perhaps his obsession was too deep, or perhaps some lingering trace left by Zang Yan…

Remarkably, he forced open a Mana Circuit in an almost self‑destructive manner, painstakingly mastering portions of the Jiantong Family's leftover worm‑related techniques.

The price was his mind, under years of painful practice and hatred, sliding ever deeper into an irretrievable abyss.

By day, he could still use his remaining Reason String and the social mask learned since childhood to maintain the façade of an "ordinary top student."

But whenever night fell and he faced the old mansion alone, bearing Grandfather's will, the disguise peeled away piece by piece, revealing the frantic core that believed it bore a sacred mission.

"They're all laughing… that stupid woman Tengcun Dahe, only knows how to shout in class… Yuanban Ying, the pretentious top student, who behind the scenes is even dirtier… and those numb classmates… they all deserve death! They all must be purified!"

Shen'er gritted his teeth, carving more forcefully as stone chips flew, "Grandfather's lifelong wish… I will inherit! I will use the Holy Grail's power to reshape this world! To establish a new order without hypocrisy, without sin, only absolute justice! Ha… ha‑ha…"

The Spell Array finally completed.

The lines were crooked yet exuded an uncanny aura; mana flowed slowly within, emitting a low hum.

Shen'er staggered to his feet, stumbling back a few steps.

His face was a mix of sweat and the glow of frenzy, his protruding eyes fixed on the center of the Spell Array.

"Come… come! Respond to my call for justice! Become the sharpest sword in my hand, cutting down all injustice in the world!"

He raised his right hand, three Command Spells on the back of his hand glowing like red‑hot branding irons, emitting a dazzling crimson in the darkness.

He roared, pouring into it fragments of those venomous curses from his Memory, blended with his frantic will.

There was no standard incantation, no orthodox ritual, only the purest negativity and twisted eruption.

The dark‑purple mana Light Pillar erupted with a thunderous blast!

It was neither holy golden‑white nor eerie blue, but a hue like rotting sludge mixed with foul blood, brimming with nauseating malice.

Within the light, vague silhouettes of countless tiny insects writhed and hissed.

The Basement shook violently, dust cascading down.

The light contracted.

A tall, silent figure radiating overwhelming ominous aura stood at the center of the Spell Array.

It was a knight clad in heavy armor.

The armor was a matte dark‑purple, its design fierce, edges sharp, joints layered like a creature's shell, with ominous dark‑red glints seeping through the seams.

The helm was fully enclosed; the faceplate bore a single V‑shaped fissure, emitting a cold, scarlet glow.

The back of the armor bore several sharp metal protrusions resembling arthropod limbs, slightly drawn together.

Berserker.

"Ho… ho ho… ha‑ha… ha‑ha‑ha!!!"

Jiantong Shen'er stared at the steel demon that seemed to have stepped out of a nightmare, first frozen, then a suppressed chuckle spilled from his throat, quickly turning into an uncontrollable, bent‑over, clutch‑the‑belly laugh.

"Ha‑ha‑ha‑ha‑ha!! It's done! It's done! Such overwhelming power! Such a perfect weapon!"

He laughed until tears streamed, pointing at the silent Dark Purple Knight, "Did you see, Grandfather? Did you see?! This is the Servant that answers my justice! With it, who can stand against me?! Those hypocrites, those murderers will tremble before this power, be destroyed!"

The knight simply stood silently, the V‑shaped red light on its faceplate steady, showing no response to the Master's frantic laughter, as if a soulless killing statue.

Yet merely the oppressive aura it exuded was enough to make a sound mind feel suffocated.

Jiantong Shen'er, however, felt supreme delight and a sense of power within that fear.

He stopped laughing, wiped the tears from his eyes, and his gaze became sharp and twisted again, filled with a self‑righteous sense of mission.

"Victory is assured… the advantage is mine!"

He clenched his fist, his nails nearly digging into his flesh, "The Holy Grail… will belong to justice! Grandfather, just watch… watch me carry out the final purification for you, for this world!"

The dark‑purple knight remained silent.

Only the scarlet V‑shaped glow shone coldly in the dim Basement.

Late at night, in Ilya's room at the Weigong Residence.

The warm yellow night lamp had already gone out; only the cool moonlight filtered through the curtain gaps, casting a narrow Light Band across the floor.

Ilya curled up in the blankets, her silvery‑white long hair spread over the pillow, her red, large eyes opened wide in the darkness, staring at the ceiling, with no sleepiness at all.

"Robin… sister?" she whispered.