Time slipped by, and three years passed quietly, days and nights folding into each other.
In a plain amidst a barren mountain range, a small hill trembled violently, rising and falling with a weight that seemed no less than ten tons. The ground roared continuously, and beneath the hill, a lone figure trained relentlessly, drenched in sweat.
The small hill advanced toward a distant river, visibly bouncing up and down, and after about ten minutes, it landed with a resounding thud.
Lucien, clad only in black elastic boxer briefs, displayed perfectly toned muscles, each bead of sweat reflecting his tireless effort. After calming his breath for a moment, he leaped into the river, swimming a few laps before coming ashore and skillfully starting a fire.
Fifteen minutes later, a five-square-meter stainless steel pan held steaming old pickled cabbage noodles, filling the air with a familiar, comforting aroma.
It had been years since Lucien last enjoyed instant noodles. The taste was original, nostalgic, grounding him amid the relentless passage of time.
Three years had passed since the "Trash Golden Finger" had been updated and replaced. In that span, he had three opportunities to roll the Dice for a natural year.
In the first year, Lucien drew a Random Transmigration +1, which he chose not to use immediately, focusing instead on cultivating within the Demon Slayer world.
In the second year, he acquired fifty Rocket Launcher warheads — replenishing the ten expended during his battle with Wang Xu and adding forty more for future use.
The third year brought a thousand boxes of old pickled cabbage beef noodles. Since the "Trash Golden Finger" shifted from monthly to yearly rewards, the quality and quantity had notably increased. Just the noodles alone were valuable; if the system still ran monthly, he would have received only a single packet. This generous annual reward ensured he would be well-fed and ready for anything.
"That should be enough," Lucien murmured. Finished with his meal, he gazed at the cloudless sky. Time in this world was limited — ten years, minus three — leaving him roughly seven years. To extend his lifespan, he would need to venture to the next world.
Night fell, the full moon casting silvery light across the land.
---
In a retro courtyard mansion, a sudden roar split the darkness.
A young man with reddish-brown hair and brown eyes, clad in simple blue-and-white casual clothes, spat blood and crashed through a wooden wall, landing in the courtyard.
Behind him, a towering figure emerged slowly, holding a blood-red spear. The warrior wore a dark blue, form-fitting battle suit etched with glowing blue armor patterns tracing the contours of his body. Silver shoulder pads, connected at the back, added weight to his imposing frame.
This man was Cú Chulainn, the Son of Light, a Heroic Spirit summoned from the Holy Grail War. His only goal was to experience a truly satisfying battle, unattached to the Grail itself.
Coughing, Shirou Emiya struggled to rise and watched Cú Chulainn charge toward a nearby warehouse, casually thrusting his spear.
Shirou defended himself with a magic-reinforced steel pipe, flying backward while coughing blood as a magic circle flared behind him.
Cú Chulainn pulled back, preparing for another strike, only to be repelled by an invisible longsword's force.
"I ask you, are you my Master?" Shirou gasped, staring at the figure materializing before him.
A clear, indifferent female voice responded.
In his eyes appeared an exquisite woman, snow-white skin, shoulder-length golden hair, emerald green eyes. She wore a blue-trimmed dress, silver-patterned armor, thick white pants, and a protective cape. Her hair was tied back with a blue ribbon, a single cowlick floating atop her head, symbolizing royal glory.
"Servant," Shirou whispered.
"Servant Saber, I have answered your summons!" Artoria declared.
Resting her hands on an invisible Holy Sword, she met Shirou's gaze calmly. Then, turning toward the courtyard, she announced, "My sword shall accompany you, and your fate shall be mine. The contract is now complete."
She launched herself into the courtyard, charging at Cú Chulainn.
The storm of clashing blades and magical power tore the air, sending debris flying and distorting their movements.
From a distant rooftop, Lucien appeared, observing the battle with a smirk, his expression cold and condescending.
The clash of Artoria's transparent sword and Cú Chulainn's blood-red spear shattered the ground.
Cú Chulainn executed a backflip, landing firmly, gripping his spear with resolve as he confronted Artoria.
"Your Noble Phantasm is a sword," he growled, flames of blood-red energy spiraling along the weapon. "Guessing it is an axe or spear would be more fun."
Artoria's emerald eyes narrowed, her face perfectly composed. "Then die."
Cú Chulainn's eyes darkened.
He held the spear with both hands, the crimson energy enveloping it as rocks and soil rose into the blood-red night sky.
"Gae Bolg."
A torrent of crimson lightning surged forward, obliterating everything in its path, aimed directly at Artoria.
She tensed, gripping the sword with all her strength.
At that moment, a man with blue spiky hair, dressed casually in a t-shirt, beach shorts, and flip-flops, appeared out of thin air. His sudden arrival, accompanied by bewilderment written across his face, stunned Artoria.
Lucien's presence sent shivers up the spine.
The world seemed to bend around the approaching storm.
It was too late.
---
Early chapters. Early access.
Join me on Patreon.
Patreon.com/Zphyr_