"Where is Jeanne?"
"She's dead."
Uemon answered indifferently, as if she were nothing more than a crushed ant.
"Why?"
"Who knows?"
Uemon frowned in puzzlement.
"The Mystic Eye experiments had already stopped. She was reassigned to another experiment. But as soon as it began, she just... died for no reason. The magi under me couldn't figure out why—no abnormalities detected. It was as if her lifespan had simply run out. A strange thing..."
Another... experiment?
So that was it.
There were more experiments beyond just the Mystic Eyes.
Jeanne had died in one of them.
"Just a few more days... and we could have met again..."
Roy lowered his head, murmuring under his breath.
"Don't be naive, boy!"
Uemon shot him a sharp glare.
"You've been given the Mystic Eyes we created—that means you bear the responsibility of saving the world! From now on, you must dedicate yourself to that cause. Your magical studies must not slacken for even a moment, and your mentality must be unwavering. Losing one insignificant Jeanne means nothing! You'd better be prepared to sacrifice anything at any time!"
Roy remained silent, head still bowed, as if he hadn't heard a word.
Uemon considered pressing further but decided against it.
After all, this homunculus was only four years old. His intellect was pitifully underdeveloped, and he must have grown deeply attached to the girl who had cared for him for a year.
No matter.
They could just scrub those useless emotions from his mind later.
All he needed to be was a machine for saving the world.
Just a worthless homunculus, after all.
"Where is Jeanne's body?"
"Useless things are disposed of immediately."
"Are there any photos?"
"None were taken."
Roy said nothing more.
Only the darkness in his eyes grew deeper.
Two days later, Uemon began teaching him magecraft.
As he instructed Roy, he also subtly hypnotized him—erasing unnecessary emotions, molding him into a machine for salvation.
Uemon was certain the brainwashing would succeed.
At this stage, Roy couldn't even use his Mystic Eyes yet—he had no means of resistance. And by the time he could, it would already be too late.
The brainwashing did succeed.
Uemon left satisfied after every session.
But the moment he was gone—
A faint, holy white light would flicker across Roy's body.
It lasted only an instant, unnoticed by anyone.
Yet each time, Roy's mind would clear.
He realized what was happening. His eyes darkened further, but he maintained an innocent facade.
Roy became the Uemon clan's only successful experiment.
Uemon poured all his knowledge into him.
Every ounce of magecraft he had accumulated over his nearly four-hundred-year lifespan—he imparted it all to Roy without reservation.
He ordered his clan, including the homunculi, to treat Roy as a saint. Every member bowed deeply in his presence, worshipping him with fanatical devotion, as if kneeling before him would grant them salvation.
Roy felt nothing. Only malice festered within him.
Then, on an utterly ordinary day months later—
Roy seized control of the mountain's barrier and set the entire peak ablaze.
"Impossible! How can you still resist?!"
"We gave you those Mystic Eyes! How dare you betray us?!"
"Wait—I was wrong! Open the barrier and let me out!"
The magi inside panicked—some desperately trying to escape, others hurling curses, a few collapsing to their knees in tearful pleas.
"Wasn't I your saint? Well, now your saint demands your deaths—so die obediently!"
Roy's face twisted in disgust. He couldn't even bear to look at them.
He locked the barrier completely. Not a single soul escaped.
In the end, over thirty members of the Uemon clan and more than a hundred homunculi perished in the flames. None survived.
Even after slaughtering so many—including homunculi who had no part in his suffering—Roy's expression showed neither joy nor sorrow.
Only malice, black as ink.
"Traitor!"
"You damned traitor!"
"I taught you everything! Is this your answer?!"
Uemon emerged from underground, screaming hysterically at Roy.
Faced with the accusations of the architect of his torment, Roy trembled uncontrollably.
Unrestrained glee surged through him. His lips curled into a grin he couldn't suppress.
"Hah! Hahahahaha! Ah, yes—this is my answer, you old fossil! How does it feel? I've never felt better! My only regret is that I can't see the despair on your face beneath those bandages!"
Roy threw his head back and laughed—the most carefree, demonic laughter since the day he was born.
No matter how Uemon raged, Roy ignored him. With a flick of magecraft, he set the old man ablaze, watching until he burned to charcoal.
He reduced the entire mountain to ashes, leaving nothing behind, then descended alone.
He expected to find a city, signs of life.
But from afternoon until night, through a blizzard so fierce even his warming spells barely held—he saw no trace of humanity.
Then, misfortune struck—a Phantasmal Beast attacked.
Just as he resigned himself to death, a blinding streak of light tore through the sky.
A figure with wild crimson hair burned into his vision.
"So it's you?"
Roy couldn't answer. At his limit, he lost consciousness.
When he awoke, he was in the Aozaki residence of Neo-Fuyuki City.
The woman who saved him was none other than the famed Magician of Blue—Aozaki Aoko.
She took him in.
Out of respect for Aoko, the magi of Fuyuki treated him with courtesy—though their disdain for his homunculus origins was thinly veiled.
Roy didn't care.
With these Mystic Eyes, any magus who faced him would be like the Monkey King trapped in Buddha's palm—utterly powerless.
"So you're the pretty boy Aoko's keeping here?"
One day, Aozaki Touko arrived.
And took an immediate interest in him.
"Quite fascinating Mystic Eyes. You're still unskilled with them—let me teach you properly."
Roy met her with a cold stare, silent.
His eyes brimmed with loathing for the world, as if it might spill over at any moment.
Touko's gaze pierced through his clothes, tracing the scars—both physical and mental—that riddled his body. Her expression softened slightly.
"Aozaki Touko, what kind of creatures do you think humans are?"
Out of nowhere, Roy posed the question.
Touko looked surprised, then thoughtful. She studied him intently.
"Let me ask you this in return—do you want my answer, or are you searching for your own?"
Roy froze. Then it hit him.
Of course.
He wasn't seeking her wisdom—he was lost, desperate for an answer he could believe in.
After that exchange, he began to think.
Jeanne had said that as long as he never stopped thinking, he would find the answer.
He didn't believe in such idealistic nonsense. It was as foolish as claiming the world would someday achieve utopia.
But with nothing else to do... why not keep thinking?
What was the answer he wanted?
***
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