SWNOVELXO Chapter 45: The Crimson Sovereign
Fuyuki – The Abandoned Factory on the City's Outskirts.
A place like a deathline swallowed by time—rusted walls, warped windows, a roof full of gaping holes… everything steeped in the stench of ancient decay. A place so suffocatingly cold and still, it could flay flesh from bone.
No chirping insects. No signs of life.
And yet… there was movement.
At the edge of the building, near a grove of rotting trees, a small figure crept forward with visible anxiety. Her high twin-tailed black hair swayed with the night breeze, and the red of her jacket burned vividly against the gray ruins.
—Tohsaka Rin.
Clutched in her tiny hands was a device like a pocket watch, its trembling needle pointing steadily toward the heart of the warehouse. Her face pale, she bit her lip and pushed on.
As she neared the warehouse, Rin pressed her body against the frigid wall, one trembling hand slowly nudging open the decayed door. Her wide eyes, brimming with tears, peered into the darkness within…
—And then, suddenly:
Clack. Clack. Clack.
The echo of metal boots on concrete slammed into her ears like a hammer to the chest. Rin jerked around, terrified, staring in the direction of the sound.
A figure approached—white and gold armor, crimson cloak trailing behind, each step like a death knell pounding the earth.
Rin stumbled backward, then darted into a nearby bush, her heart pounding wildly.
Zoth—the steel-clad knight—came to a halt. The twin red eyes beneath his helmet swept the area… and locked onto the shivering bush.
He smirked beneath his helm, resting a hand on the side of his helmet like he was… amused.
"Oh? Didn't expect to see tiny muscle demon Rin tonight~ What a delightful evening this has turned out to be…"
He strode over to the bush. Just as his hand reached in—
"Aaa! Let me go!!"
Rin flailed like a startled kitten, limbs swinging wildly in the air, eyes glistening with tears.
Zoth didn't seem the least bit bothered. He plucked her up one-handed like she weighed nothing, slung her over his shoulder, and casually continued toward the warehouse.
"Easy there~ If you came all the way here… then allow me to show you what true hell looks like."
He raised his right fist—twisting currents of black-gold energy swirling around it like a vortex. Without hesitation, Zoth drove a Rider Punch straight into the rusted door.
BOOM!!!
The blast echoed like thunder. Dust and rust exploded outward in a hailstorm of debris, red lightning crackling through the air like fractures in reality. The door shattered—torn off its hinges and flung inside with a shriek of mangled steel.
Zoth stepped through the smoke, his shadow stretching long under the pale moonlight.
He stopped.
His eyes behind the helmet widened. His teeth clenched. His voice, low and hoarse, broke the silence like a crack of doom:
"You two bastards…!"
The scene before him made his fists tremble. His armor shook—not from fear, but fury.
Inside the warehouse—a scene of unspeakable horror.
The dank room flickered under the dim, faltering glow of an overhead bulb. But even that sickly light was enough to reveal the truth: dried blood smeared across the floor… and countless small, motionless forms scattered throughout.
Children.
Their eyes still wide open in frozen terror.
Faces locked in the final moments of unimaginable fear.
Some… had their tiny hands nailed to the walls with thick iron spikes. Their wounds bruised and blackened, the dried blood now a dark brown crust.
The air was thick—choked with the reek of rot and iron.
No need for a trained mage to analyze the scene.
Anyone could see it.
These children… had endured hell at the hands of Ryuunosuke and Gilles.
Zoth stood in the center of the carnage, breath caught in his throat.
He stepped forward slowly. The fury in his gaze had dulled, replaced by a heavy, suffocating weight—guilt, remorse… the unforgivable kind.
With a sharp clang, he slammed his fist into his own chestplate.
"Gilles… Ryuunosuke… you bastards…"
"I swear—you'll pay. You'll pay dearly for this…"
His voice rasped, strained—like he was holding back a scream clawing from the depths of his soul.
Off to the side, Rin trembled against the wall, her eyes red and wide. She instinctively backed away—until she bumped into something soft.
She turned.
Her eyes widened with sudden hope:
"Kotone…?!"
In the far corner of the warehouse, a small group of children still clung to life—bound by magical restraints. Among them… was Rin's missing friend: Kotone. Her head slumped forward, body weak, breath shallow.
Without hesitation, Rin dropped to her knees, fumbling with shaking hands to undo the bindings.
"Kotone! Are you okay?! Don't fall asleep! I'm getting you out of here!"
Kotone stirred, eyelids fluttering open. Her lips moved, too faint to form words. Her eyes… still held the ghost of fear.
Meanwhile, Zoth had knelt beside one of the lost children.
He gently cradled the limp body, one hand removing the bloodied nails still pinning the tiny arm to the wall. He said nothing. But his armored fingers clenched tight—metal groaning under the pressure as if mourning alongside its bearer.
"I'm sorry… this is my fault."
"For not erasing this sickness when I had the chance… for underestimating the evil that men can wear like a mask…"
"Rest now…
—I swear, I'll make them pay. For all of you."
The air froze.
A vow sealed in blood.
A rage that simmered just beneath the surface.
And a fragile light… in the form of a small girl pulling her friend out of the dark—
The balance between vengeance and hope,
…hanging by a thread.
Zoth rose in the suffocating dark of the warehouse.
He drew in a long, silent breath—his armored shoulders tightening, trying to cage the fury screaming in his chest.
Whoosh!
Caladbolg materialized in his hand—arcs of red lightning crackling along the blade's edge, a violent omen of what was about to be unleashed.
Zoth strode over to the children still bound by magical restraints.
With a single sweep—
Shing!
The bindings snapped apart, clean and silent.
He looked at the trembling children, then at Rin, still struggling to support Kotone, eyes swollen from crying—but now burning with something else: resolve.
His voice echoed from the depths of his helmet, stern and commanding:
"Kid… call the police."
"And help get the others out of here."
Rin flinched briefly, then nodded hard.
Tears still clung to her lashes—but her gaze was steady.
"I understand! But… what about you?"
Zoth didn't answer.
A dark red aura began to rise from his body.
Electric crackles burst from his shoulders and blade, snapping the air like firecrackers—painting the room in sparks and bloodlight.
He turned slightly—his glowing crimson eyes gleaming through the visor.
At the far entrance… a figure stepped into view.
Orange hair.
Purple coat.
Dragging a line of children like broken dolls.
Ryuunosuke had arrived, babbling like a lunatic possessed:
"Alright, my sweet little ones~ We're going to—"
—CRACK!
He didn't get to finish.
Zoth flashed forward like a bolt—his armored hand clamping around Ryuunosuke's throat and lifting him clean off the floor.
No chance to scream.
No time to move.
"You like killing, don't you?"
"You like blood games, right? Then let me show you—what pain really feels like to the ones you laughed at."
BOOM!
Zoth hurled him like a sack of garbage.
Ryuunosuke tumbled across the ground—barely had time to groan—
When the sky screamed.
Red lightning began to coil and churn above the warehouse—like heaven itself was outraged.
Thunder cracked.
The air split open.
And through it, Zoth raised Caladbolg—his gaze cold, resolute, like justice made flesh.
"The gods decree—murderers do not deserve swift deaths."
CRASH—!!!
A bolt of Blood Lightning struck.
"GAAAHHH!!"
Ryuunosuke screamed—his body torn open, scorched by divine electricity.
But he didn't die.
He writhed.
He crawled.
Looked up—only to see Zoth walking toward him again.
Zoth flicked a small green gem between his fingers—a healing crystal.
Its glow spilled out, knitting flesh back together.
"Wh-what… what the hell do you want from me…?"
Zoth's voice was steel grinding through ash:
"I want you… to understand what it means to exist—on the edge of death."
CRACK! Another strike.
BOOM! And again.
And again.
Over and over.
Ryuunosuke could not die.
He screamed.
He begged.
He clawed at the floor, at himself, at the sky.
Every time the pain almost ended—Zoth would toss another gem.
Drag him back from the brink—only to hurl him deeper into torment.
Zoth never shouted.
Never cursed.
He stood silently—like a judgment rendered in metal and thunder—watching this mockery of a man suffer the very cycle of agony he once took pleasure in creating.
That night in Fuyuki… was no longer just a night.
It was a reckoning.
Zoth let the blood lightning rain down.
Strike after strike—he didn't stop.
Not until the last recovery gem in his [Ride Book Dimensions] was gone.
Only then… did he finally pause.
He stood over the convulsing body of Ryuunosuke, gaze unreadable.
There was no fury left in his voice.
Only emptiness—the kind that comes after fate itself has cast its judgment.
He reached for his Driver.
[Demigod Stlash!!]
The mechanical voice rang out—cold and absolute.
Zoth raised Caladbolg skyward.
Above, the heavens split—an enormous Omni Force book opened in the clouds.
From it descended a colossal, spectral Caladbolg—wreathed in black-gold energy, tearing apart the very sky.
Zoth didn't scream.
He didn't roar.
He simply lowered his blade.
And the divine weapon followed.
KA-THOOM—!!!
The ground shuddered.
The Mion River split down the center—a burning scar etched in red lightning, still crackling with residual judgment.
Ryuunosuke… was no more.
Wiped from existence by the sword of reckoning.
Zoth dismissed Caladbolg, and turned.
Behind him stood Tohsaka Rin.
The little girl trembled. Her eyes were red, face pale—caught somewhere between awe, fear… and admiration.
"A-Are you… a Servant?"
She asked in a whisper, clutching her dress tightly with both hands.
Zoth's voice softened beneath his helm.
"Yeah. I'm a Servant. Class: Ruler. I came here… to end this."
He stepped forward, gently ruffled her hair.
"Aah! Don't treat me like a kid!!"
Rin squealed, hugging her head, puffing her cheeks in protest as her eyes glistened with leftover tears.
Zoth chuckled quietly under the helmet—but said nothing.
Instead, he turned back toward the warehouse.
His heavy footsteps echoed as he made his way inside—one by one, lifting each surviving child into his arms, cradling them gently, and carrying them to safety.
Every time he held a child's body—his hands tensed.
Because each one reminded him of those he couldn't save.
Zoth returned once more—now facing the carnage.
He raised his right hand.
A flame burst forth—orange-red, alive.
It took form: Kaenken Rekka, the Flame Sword.
With a single slash—whoosh!—the sword ignited the warehouse in roaring fire.
The blaze devoured everything.
Ash and screams long dead finally given rest.
Zoth sheathed Rekka.
And pressed his hands together.
He murmured quiet prayers—ones Jeanne had once taught him.
No loud vows.
No divine declarations.
Only the weight of regret, buried under steel.
"Forgive me.
I couldn't save you.
I'm no saint.
I'm no hero.
I'm just a bastard who likes breaking things…"
"…But if there's one thing I can do—
It's avenge you."
"Rest now.
As for Gilles…"
"Leave him… to me."
Zoth turned away.
His crimson cape trailed behind him, catching firelight one last time.
He walked out of the warehouse—the graveyard of innocents.
And into the night.
Toward the sewers.
Toward the monster still lurking in the dark.
---
Sewer beneath the Mion River.
A space of rot and decay—dark, damp, and stinking of old blood.
Moss-covered walls streaked with dried crimson, some stains still wet and fresh.
Deep within the underground tunnels… a crystal orb flickered faintly.
It sat atop a makeshift stone pedestal, radiating a pale, eerie light.
Inside the orb shimmered an image: Artoria, making her way toward the Mion River.
Kneeling before it…
A gaunt figure with slicked-back black hair, deathly pale skin, and a black ceremonial robe veined with silver threads—like cooled ash.
Gilles de Rais.
His head bowed low before the crystal.
Eyes glazed with obsession, voice little more than a deluded whisper.
"Jeanne… please wait for me…
I will free you from those false lords…
I will help you…
Remember who you are…"
His words were like a prayer—
But the tone was warped. Twisted.
Not compassion, but madness.
Suddenly—he snapped.
CRACK!!
His hand slammed onto the stone altar, blood bursting from his palm—
Smearing across the crystal like a curse.
"ZOTH!! YOU AGAIN?!
Taking Jeanne from me once wasn't enough—
Now you want to destroy even the final dream I've clung to?!"
"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!!!
IF YOU HADN'T LOST CONTROL—JEANNE WOULDN'T HAVE DIED!!!"
"YOU—!!!"
Then—
A deep, gravelly voice echoed through the sewer.
It rang like a funeral bell striking stone.
"Yes… Jeannette died because of me."
"Because I couldn't control myself.
Because I stained her wish with blood…"
From the shadows emerged a figure draped in crimson.
White-gold armor.
Helm with twin glowing eyes—like ghostly embers.
Zoth.
"But you, Gilles…"
"You—who butchered children, who delves into that rotting Spellbook—
You think you have the right to judge me?"
Silence.
The kind that presses against your skin.
Then—crack—
Scarlet lightning began splitting from beneath Zoth's feet, carving glowing rifts across the ground.
Gilles stood.
His eyes shrank, his twisted face curled with loathing and deranged conviction.
"I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO STILL REMEMBERS THE REAL JEANNE!!!
AND YOU—YOU'RE JUST A BUTCHER DRESSED IN HOLY ARMOR!!!"
BOOM—!!
Chaotic magical energy surged beside him—
Grotesque tentacles of sewage and sorcery burst from the floor, shrieking like the drowned.
Zoth didn't flinch.
His hand moved—resting on the Driver.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Prepared.
Gilles roared like a beast driven mad.
"I'LL RIP YOU TO PIECES!! FOR JEANNE!! FOR MY IDEAL!!"
Zoth answered.
His voice was thunder:
"You'll die here, Gilles de Rais.
Because the one whose name you keep desecrating…"
"Jeanne herself has long wished for your end."
One entered like a blade drawn from fire.
The other writhed in a rotting dream.
The purge had begun.
BOOM—!
Zoth charged like a living storm, the raw force of his dash cracking the ground beneath every step.
His arm swept back, swirling with vortexes of black-gold energy that howled like a devouring cyclone.
In a blink, he closed the distance—
And threw a punch that shattered the air.
BAAAM—!!!
"GAHH!!"
Gilles was launched—his frail body slammed into the damp stone wall behind, spiderweb cracks exploding outward.
Blood sprayed from his nose in crimson bursts.
Gilles snarled like a beast—
Eyes bulging, veins throbbing with raw hatred.
"ZOTH!!! DIE—DIE FOR ME NOW!!!"
BOOM!
The runes beneath him lit up—deep violet, thick as clotted blood.
From the glyphs erupted ink-black tentacles, shrieking with metallic screeches, lashing forward to tear reality apart.
"Disgusting,"
Zoth muttered, voice cold as death.
WHOOSH—!
He swung Caladbolg.
Scarlet sword-light ripped through the gloom—
Each slash a cleave of divine wrath.
Tentacles turned to ash mid-air—erased before they could even graze him.
BOOM—BOOM!!
Gilles howled in fury.
The Spellbook in his hand flashed violently—pages turning of their own will, glyphs spiraling outward.
The magic circle beneath his feet widened—
A yawning gate to hell splitting open.
"DIIIIIE, ZOTH!!!"
From the widening abyss—
Hundreds of new tendrils emerged—longer, faster, tipped with gnashing teeth like serpents on fire.
Zoth narrowed his eyes.
A sharp click echoed from his Driver.
[Omnimus Loading…]
[Solomon Break!!]
Caladbolg pulsed with power.
As the sword spun in his hand, golden-black fire spiraled around the blade—runes lighting up like molten scripture.
FWOOOSH—BOOM!!
Zoth spun with the force of a divine whirlwind—
The slash exploded outward, shredding every single tentacle into pieces.
Each severed limb ignited before it could fall—burned to nothing.
But Zoth didn't stop.
"Shut up."
He lunged—
Grabbing Gilles by the throat like he was seizing trash,
Then—
SLAM!!—SLAM!!—SLAAAAM—!!
Stone cracked. Blood flew. Walls shattered.
Zoth rammed him through solid stone, wall after wall of the underground sewer.
Gilles choked—coughing blood, body flailing helplessly.
Zoth didn't speak.
Didn't pause.
Didn't spare.
He drove Gilles like a battering ram—straight through the bowels of the sewer complex, until—
BOOOOM—!!
They tore through the final stone barrier—
Bursting into open air—launched high above the Mion River, which churned below in filthy rage.
Zoth let go midair.
FWIP—!!
With a single, brutal motion, he flung Gilles downward—like tossing waste.
"Take a bath. Maybe it'll knock some sense into you."
Zoth muttered, eyes locked on the turbulent water below.
KRA-KOOOM—!
Gilles smashed into the Mion River—white spray erupted skyward—
But a second later, a pillar of black-violet light exploded upward from beneath the water.
It pulsed like a ruptured portal—
Madness and dark sorcery bursting from its core.
Zoth stood at the riverbank, eyes flaring behind his helmet.
"The hell…?"
BOOOOM—BOOMMMM!!!
From the river's depths, massive tendrils erupted, slicing through the surface like living pillars.
Water spiraled skyward—sucked into a massive magic circle, etched with glowing glyphs that radiated pure dread.
Then came the laughter.
Gilles' voice—twisted, warped—echoed from below like a chorus of screaming whispers:
"AHAHAHA—ZOTH!! YOU THINK YOU'RE STRONG?!
LET ME SHOW YOU A POWER THAT DEFIES SANITY ITSELF!!"
From beneath the water, inside the summoning circle, something monstrous rose.
A creature—all eyes, horns, and writhing tentacles—emerged from the abyss.
Black smoke and rotting fog oozed from its flesh, stitched together with teeth and iron chains, like a corpse flayed and rebuilt by nightmares.
A pair of bony wings trembled on its back.
[The Abyssborn Leviathan]
A beast summoned from the deepest level of the Spellbook's forbidden pages.
Gilles rose atop its head—body bloodied, smile utterly deranged.
"I don't need salvation! I only need Jeanne—AND THE POWER TO CRUSH EVERYTHING!!"
He raised the Spellbook, blood soaking into its pages.
Black glyphs crawled like ants across his skin.
Zoth's eyes narrowed.
"…He's fusing with it?!"
BOOOOM—!!
The summoning circle expanded—Spellbook flipping wildly as pages screamed like trapped souls.
Tendrils from the Leviathan coiled around Gilles, dragging him inward.
"O' Leviathan… let us be one…
Je suis ton apôtre, ton cœur, ton ombre… FUSE WITH ME!!"
BOOOOM—BOOM—BOOMMMMM!!!!
The entire sewer shook.
The sky above split open, revealing a gaping black void.
Wind shrieked in madness.
Gilles' body stretched, tore, and merged into the monster.
Black armor formed, wrapping his melting flesh. He screamed—
And when the howl ended…
A new form stood tall.
[Leviathan-Gilles: Apostle of Madness]
A half-human, half-eldritch abomination.
Gilles' face distorted—jaw split wide with shark-like teeth, red eyes bulging from a twisted brow of horns.
His chest opened like a second mouth—cackling endlessly.
Zoth gripped Caladbolg tighter.
"Tch… So you really chose to become a monster."
Power exploded around him—
Red light surged through his gauntlets, heat igniting the ground under each step.
"Good. I don't have to hold back."
[Omnimus Loading…]
[Solomon Stlash!!]
Zoth raised Caladbolg high—black-gold energy flooded the blade.
Above him, the phantom image of an enormous Omni Force tome appeared—
And from it descended a titanic version of Caladbolg, a divine sword that seemed forged from judgment itself.
"End this."
SWOOSH—!!!
He swung.
BAAAAAAMMMMM—!!!
The colossal blade split the sky, slicing down toward the fused Leviathan-Gilles.
The monster's body was cleaved in half—torn apart by the apocalyptic energy.
But then—
The severed flesh twitched.
Regenerated.
Reformed.
Grotesquely fast.
Zoth halted, eyes narrowing.
"Tsk. Gilles, Gilles…"
"You were already insufferable in anime. Meeting you in the flesh? You're disgusting than i imagine."
He slammed his Driver shut—three quick presses.
[Omnimus Loading…]
[Solomon Zone! Fuhahahaha…]
Zoth's right arm flared red. He flicked his fingers skyward.
BOOOOM!!
A new tome tore into reality—
[Omni Book], glowing brilliant crimson, opened above the forest like a divine verdict, radiating an oppressive, sacred aura.
Zoth poured all his mana into Caladbolg—
The blade burned like molten iron.
He slashed once.
A red beam shot upward—striking the Omni Book.
It opened—
KRA-KOOOOOM!!!
A massive energy field burst from its pages—
Sunlight incarnate.
It incinerated all darkness, all tentacles, all abomination cells of the Leviathan.
Gone in an instant.
No scream.
No struggle.
Only ash.
Zoth lowered his sword.
Caladbolg vanished in a shimmer of light as his feet touched the scorched ground.
His glowing red eyes behind the helmet turned toward the forest—
Where a small silhouette peeked out from behind a tree.
"Come out.
Been tailing me since the old workshop, haven't you?"
He slung Caladbolg over his shoulder—voice calm, but still laced with killing intent.
Rin flinched.
Her small hands gripped her dress tightly as she stepped out hesitantly, eyes wavering—yet she inhaled, trying to gather what courage she had.
"You… Servant…
Would you… help me with something?"
Zoth raised an eyebrow, fingers brushing the chin of his helm.
"Help with what?"
Rin bowed low—voice loud and clear, though tinged with a faint tremble:
"Please help me find my sister!
Her name is Sakura… I want to see her again…"
Zoth paused.
Then scoffed lightly—a mocking laugh, but somehow gentler than usual.
"Then go look for her yourself.
What do I look like, a saint?"
Rin lowered her head again. Her lips trembled. Fingers fidgeted at the hem of her dress.
"I… I want to…
But… the Matou estate's collapsed…
The whole family's missing…
And Sakura… she's just gone…"
Zoth let out an internal, awkward chuckle.
"Shit… That mansion collapsed because of me, didn't it?"
Truth was, the Matous had been relocated way out in the outskirts of Miyama Town.
Without a word, he walked toward Rin.
Then—effortlessly lifted her like a sack of rice and tossed her over his shoulder.
"W-Wha!? W-What are you doing?!"
Rin clung to the side of his helm in panic.
"Taking you to find your sister.
Sit tight. Fall off and it's your own damn fault."
Zoth started walking—his armored boots thudding against the ground.
Step by step, steady and unfaltering—until all that remained behind was wind and smoke from the battle.
---
Not long after…
A black car rolled up near the riverbank.
Its tires hissed softly as they touched the damp earth.
The door opened.
Two women stepped out.
One with long white hair, eyes gentle like moonlight.
The other, clad in a black suit—blonde, eyes sharp as drawn steel.
Irisviel and Artoria.
They stood before the battlefield—
Ruins, ash, scraps of eldritch flesh still smoking from residual energy.
Artoria narrowed her eyes.
"…We arrived too late."
Irisviel clutched her sleeve, silent.
No words followed.
Only the wind.
And the traces left behind… by the one named Zoth.