SWNOVELXO Chapter 54: Welcome to Hell, Kids!
Fuyuki – After the Holy Grail War.
Time passed like the first gust of winter — cold, fleeting, and cruel.
It had been two weeks since the catastrophe struck Fuyuki.
The city now sank into a heavy silence, the stillness of post-disaster days — when pain had not yet faded, and memories still bled.
The townspeople, still grieving, had erected a memorial in the heart of Miyama.
A long stone slab, engraved with names — name after name of those who never made it out.
Those burned.
Those crushed.
Those who simply vanished without a trace.
And yet, despite the sorrow—life moved on.
Reconstruction began immediately.
Machines roared, workers labored from dawn to dusk, houses were rebuilt brick by brick, roads cleared and cleaned.
The government and local officials issued swift policies for aid and compensation — trying to calm the shaken, trying to piece life back together.
As always —
The cause of the disaster was presented in a clear, tidy, airtight package, as if rehearsed:
"Gas leak."
Yes… the official report stated:
Aged, corroded underground pipelines had been left unchecked.
Gas had slowly seeped into residential areas, building up over time —
Until one stray spark…
Triggered a chain reaction of explosions, devastating fires, and collapsing buildings across Fuyuki.
That was the final verdict.
Broadcast on TV.
Printed in the papers.
Posted across social media and public flyers.
And of course—
That was only part of the truth.
Just enough to keep the public calm.
But not enough to hide everything.
In a quiet corner of Fuyuki, tucked away from the city's chaos and rebirth, stood an old traditional Japanese mansion — timeless and refined, untouched by disaster.
The air here felt slower, purer — like time itself moved gently.
A serenity steeped in tradition, in stark contrast to the world outside.
Inside a large tatami room, fragrant with old wood, three children sat facing each other on the floor.
The atmosphere was awkward, a bit shy — but warm.
After a pause, one of them spoke first.
"Haai~! Then… I'll go first, okay~?"
A little girl with long black hair draping softly over her shoulders smiled sweetly.
She brought her hands together, bowed slightly, and introduced herself with a calm, polite voice:
"My name is Matou Sakura. I'm six years old…
I'm the backup heir to the Matou family.
Right now I only know a bit of reinforcement magic, but… it's nice to meet you, Shirou!"
"Then… I guess it's my turn."
A boy with messy, seaweed-colored hair stepped forward.
He clutched a wooden sword tightly to his chest like it was treasure, smiling gently:
"I'm Matou Shinji. I'm seven…
Uhm… I don't know anything about magic, but I heard I'll be learning swordplay with you, Shirou."
Sitting across from the Matou siblings was a red-haired boy.
His eyes were wide and honest — brimming with something fierce burning quietly inside.
He bowed his head nervously, hands tightening in his lap, and spoke with a slight tremble:
"I'm Emiya Shirou. I'm seven too.
I don't really know what 'magic' is…
But that big brother said I'll be training with Shinji, so… I hope you'll all teach me well."
And just like that, the children began talking.
Their laughter gradually filled the room — innocent and bright.
They joked.
They teased.
They spun stories about nonsense and nothing at all.
But in stark contrast to the cheerful chaos next door, the room beside it was a warzone of tension.
Inside, three adults sat face-to-face: Zoth, Kariya, and Kiritsugu.
Their eyes locked in total silence — a suffocating pressure loomed in the air, thick enough to cut.
Anyone stepping in at that moment would've frozen from the vague yet unmistakable sense of killing intent.
Kiritsugu took a long drag from his cigarette.
The smoke coiled upward, partially masking the weariness etched in the corner of his eyes.
He was the first to break the silence — his voice calm, but with an unmistakable weight behind each word:
"Ruler…
You seriously intend to take Shirou with you?
Where?
I want details."
Zoth didn't answer right away.
He leisurely lifted his tea, took a slow sip, cracked one eye open, and gave a slight smirk:
"Aiya~ no need to get all uptight.
I'm just taking Shirou and Shinji out…
For a little special training, that's all."
Kariya's brows furrowed deeply.
Concern written all over his face, he inhaled sharply, then fixed Zoth with a serious gaze — the formality in his tone gone:
"Where exactly are you planning to take them, Ruler?
I appreciate you taking Shinji seriously, I really do…
But they're just kids.
They're not ready to be pushed that far."
Zoth raised an eyebrow, looking visibly annoyed — like someone had just interrupted his nap.
He rubbed his temple, gave the two men a dull, dead-eyed stare, then sighed:
"Aiz~ you two worry too much.
Relax.
I'm not some lunatic who's gonna toss kids into a meat grinder.
Anyway… Shirou and Shinji are just future swordsmen-in-training under my care, nothing more."
He chuckled lightly — a cross between smug and sinister.
Just as he took another sip of tea, Zoth seemed to remember something.
He turned toward Kariya, voice laced with dry sarcasm:
"Oh right—
You seriously planning to send Sakura to the Clock Tower?"
"Yeah." Kariya nodded without hesitation.
"I'm taking her there to study magecraft, like you once suggested.
Why? Got a problem with that?"
Zoth grinned.
He set his teacup down and — with a snap of his fingers — conjured a tiny magical portal beside him.
From inside, he pulled out a sheet of parchment and an old-fashioned brush, scribbling down a letter with… distinct tone:
---
To Old Man Zelretch,
Remember me? Your half-assed dropout apprentice.
I've got a favor to ask — teach this girl Sakura for me.
If not…
Don't blame me when your magical girl obsession goes public.
- Not very respectfully,
Zoth ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
---
He folded the letter, dried the ink using a hair dryer he pulled out of nowhere, and with a flick — the envelope vanished without a trace.
Letter done, Zoth gave a satisfied nod and flashed a sly, confident grin.
He stood up, cracked his shoulders, and looked toward Kariya and Kiritsugu:
"Alright then!
I'll take the two brats out now — I'll bring 'em back tonight!
Sayonara~!!"
WHOOSH—!!
Zoth bolted out like a goddamn tornado, flinging the door open so hard it almost flew off its hinges.
He sprinted down the hallway, crashing into the next room where the three kids were still laughing and playing.
No warning.
No explanation.
He swooped down, grabbed Shinji and Shirou under each arm like sacks of rice, completely ignoring their panicked struggling and squeals of despair.
Not wasting a single second, Zoth pulled a brown Wonder Ride Book from his belt and flipped it open.
The cover glowed, and from it appeared a spiraling blue portal shaped like an open book.
Without a word, he stepped through it — laughing like a full-blown Saturday-morning villain:
"Wahahaha~!! Let's go, my little disciples~!!"
Behind him, Sakura stood frozen.
Her face was the embodiment of ???
She could only blink and murmur:
"…Uh… huh…?"
---
The Dream Realm – Wonder World.
Amid a kaleidoscope of shifting colors, where reality and fantasy blurred like a lucid dream, three figures stood upon a vast, surreal landscape.
Floating books spun lazily through the air.
Trees grew upside down from the sky.
Paper birds circled high above, fluttering silently like memories refusing to settle.
Two small, one tall.
Zoth stood in the center — posture straight, gaze sharp as blades.
Though his expression was serious, the cruel smirk tugging at his lips was anything but comforting.
His half-lidded eyes exuded a pressure so intense it made the very air seem heavier.
A few steps away, Shirou and Shinji stood frozen.
Their shoulders hunched instinctively, both pale-faced as they exchanged anxious glances — then looked back at Zoth like prey cornered by a wild beast.
In perfect sync, both gulped hard.
Shinji, trembling, hesitantly raised a hand and asked with a trembling voice:
"R-Ruler-nii… w-what exactly do you plan to do with us…?"
WHACK!
A merciless flick to the forehead sent him crouching in pain, clutching his head with teary eyes.
Zoth exhaled through his nose and rubbed his palms together like a chef preparing ingredients.
Leaning in, face twisted in theatrical annoyance but voice dead serious:
"Call me Master, got that?
And what do you think we're here for?
Obviously — I brought you brats here to TRAIN."
"T-Train…?" ×2
Shirou and Shinji echoed in unison — disbelief and dread plain on their faces.
Zoth nodded with unnerving enthusiasm, eyes glinting like a sadistic child unwrapping a new toy:
"Yup! Special training!
Everything's ready.
Don't worry — worst-case scenario, you'll be sore, exhausted, unable to move for a few days...
But hey, you won't die."
His smile twisted further — wicked delight dancing at the edges.
Shinji and Shirou shared a glance.
In that moment, a silent, unspoken thought passed between them:
"We've made a terrible mistake."
Zoth raised one hand — whoosh!
A vortex of radiant light spun open in midair.
Then — BOOM!
Two swords dropped and stabbed into the ground before the boys, releasing such overwhelming pressure that the space itself fell silent.
The first blade radiated dense, suffocating death energy — black fog curling around its length like a curse from hell itself.
Its edge gleamed with terrifying sharpness, and even its silence seemed to scream with malice.
Kokuranken Shikkoku — the Black Curtain Blade.
The second sword blazed with raging fire, its entire body engulfed in crimson flame.
Heat shimmered around it, distorting the air like a desert mirage.
Just standing nearby made their skin sting like a thousand needles.
Kaenken Rekka — the Flame Sword Inferno.
Shirou and Shinji gawked — eyes wide, lips parted, limbs stiff.
Weapons of war?
Or relics of nightmares?
They looked at each other.
Then turned to Zoth, faces screaming one mutual question:
"What the hell are we supposed to do with THESE!?"
Zoth raised an eyebrow, hands in his pockets, voice level but full of "I-don't-care-just-do-it" energy:
"Ahem.
You two — grab a sword.
Training starts now."
His gaze swept over both of them like a judge awaiting a sentence.
Then came the grin — that same unholy curve of lips that promised nothing good:
"Survive this first session, and I'll teach you the basics.
If not... well, figure it out~."
Shinji turned pale as a ghost.
Shirou swallowed hard.
And so it began — the first taste of hell.
Shirou and Shinji looked as pale as wet banana leaves dunked in boiling water.
They stared at the two swords in front of them as if they were staring at their ancestors' final will and testament.
Shinji forced a dry laugh, throat cracking:
"C-Can we… maybe switch to wooden sticks instead, Master…?"
Zoth didn't answer.
He simply reached out—
And patted Shinji on the shoulder.
SMACK!!!
A slap descended like divine punishment.
Shinji spun through the air like a rag caught in a cyclone, crash-landing headfirst into the ground, legs pointing skyward, eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
Zoth calmly dusted his hands — as if all he'd done was swat a fly — then turned to Shirou with a deadpan stare:
"You… wanna try that too?"
Shirou instantly shook his head like a rattling maraca, palms pressed together in desperate self-exorcism, before reluctantly bending down to grip Rekka.
His hands trembled.
Sweat dripped like melting ice in a microwave.
Seeing Shirou commit, Shinji had no choice but to crawl back up and reach for Shikkoku.
The moment his fingers touched the hilt, pain shot through his bones like an electric shock.
His eyes widened, heart pounding like a war drum.
Zoth crossed his arms, the picture of a proud but slightly unhinged teacher:
"Good. Now, your first lesson: dodging."
Shirou squinted, confused:
"Dodging… what—"
WHOOSH!!!
A blinding column of light crashed down from the sky, annihilating the exact spot where Shirou had been standing.
A smoking crater, nearly three meters deep, opened up in the ground.
The air rang with the sound of a small-scale apocalypse.
Shirou had rolled aside just in time — landing squarely on top of Shinji.
Both of them lay there, stacked like pancakes, eyes wide, mouths gaping.
Zoth casually reached behind his back and pulled out a glowing purple bazooka.
His eyes sparkled with chaotic delight:
"You dodge this, of course."
"WHAT THE HELL?!" ×2
He loaded a massive book titled:
"Encyclopedia of Student Beatings – 999 Legendary Techniques"
into the launcher, gave it a loving pat, then leveled the barrel straight at them.
"Run. Three hits and you lose dinner."
Shinji leapt to his feet, shrieking like a dying goose, tears and snot streaming down his face:
"This isn't training!! This is disguised public execution!!"
Zoth raised an eyebrow:
"Exactly. Endurance-based execution."
BOOOOOM!!!
Light-missiles shot from the bazooka like the wrath of a vengeful god.
The sky lit up with holy fire and the ground quaked like the end times had just been rescheduled.
Shirou tumbled through the chaos, ducking under flying books that sliced through the air like paper guillotines, sobbing:
"Master!! I'm sorry I ever asked your name!! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!!!"
Zoth, still chewing a lollipop, tapped on a digital scoreboard with his free hand:
"Shirou: 3 out of 10 dodges successful.
Shinji: tripped over his own foot before dodging — minus points!"
Shinji, just getting up, caught a Wonder Ride Book to the face —
THWACK!
— and collapsed like a sack of wet rice.
"I WANNA GO HOOOOME!!!"
Zoth shook his head with mock disappointment, his tone dropping into full "wise mentor" mode:
"I didn't bring you two to Wonder World to live in peace…
I brought you here to learn how to survive.
As long as you can breathe — you can run."
CRASH!!!
From the sky plummeted a giant mecha, golden armor gleaming, eyes glowing red like doomsday sirens.
It wielded a sword crackling with lightning, each step a death knell.
And it was charging straight at Shinji.
Shirou's mouth dropped open in horror:
"MASTER!!! THAT ROBOT'S ABOUT TO CHOP SHINJI IN HALF!!!"
Zoth waved his hand dismissively, calm as a summer breeze:
"Perfect chance to practice reflexes and dodging fan-shaped AoEs. You got this, disciple~"
---
Wonder World – Nightfall.
The sky faded into a deep indigo, stars spinning drunkenly like they'd had one too many shots.
The moon twisted into the shape of a grinning skull — glowing like wedding lights at a horror-themed carnival.
The magical forest turned darker still, with trees sprouting… eyes, and the sound of paper crows screeching like a dying dial-up modem.
Amidst this surreal nightmare, Shirou and Shinji looked like two kitchen rags that had been skinned and tossed into a campfire.
Bodies bruised from head to toe, hair singed at the edges, dust, sweat, and beetle-book-things clinging to them — they lay twitching on a pile of half-burning books, gasping like fish in a seafood market tank with no water.
Shirou croaked, voice dry like a zombie with laryngitis:
"Shinji…"
Shinji whimpered like a dying printer:
"Y-yeah…?"
"You still alive?"
"Maybe… like… half of me…"
Atop a mountain of smoldering books stood Zoth, arms crossed, cloak billowing like a final boss who just wiped the raid.
His gaze bore down at the two disciples like a chef inspecting a chicken — burnt on the outside, raw on the inside.
He sighed — the kind of sigh only a disappointed mom with no more hope can make:
"Pathetic… That was just seven rounds of magic artillery, three mid-tier King of Solomon spawns, and a simulated boss fight.
You two look like you just got hit by a truck."
Shirou barely managed to lift his hand, finger trembling:
"M-Master… you call that… flaming sword-wielding hellspawn… a mid-tier simulation?!"
Zoth squinted, sounding like a teacher caught assigning lethal homework:
"Well… I might have accidentally toggled a few upgrades.
Not my fault you didn't read the skill description properly."
Shinji had crawled into a bizarre bush — possibly sentient cabbage — which… clapped?
He moaned, barely audible:
"P-Please send me back to the real world… I'd rather take a Math exam…"
Zoth casually dusted off his shoulders, face calm as if he hadn't just committed psychological war crimes:
"No can do. No one leaves Wonder World until they clear basic training… and level up."
CRACK!!!
A thunderclap roared through the sky — and then it rained.
But not water.
Books.
Hundreds of them fell like bullets, hitting the ground with small explosions.
Before Shirou could move, a copy of "Encyclopedia of Weaponized Idioms" nailed him in the head, stunning him so hard he saw his childhood play out like a PowerPoint slideshow.
Zoth pulled out a bamboo flute, played a short, ominous tune — and from the shadows emerged an army of buff boxing brooms, muscles bulging, eyes glowing, knuckles cracking like a drumline.
They marched into formation under a glowing sign:
"INTENSIVE TRAINING SQUAD"
"Next lesson: dodging multi-media attacks and countering during book rain."
Shinji screeched:
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN BY MULTI-MEDIA?!"
Zoth counted off on his fingers:
"Well… books, brooms, paper birds, flying chickens, origami dragons, emotional grenades… basically, anything that hurts."
---
Midnight.
The two kids crawled like post-war zombies, bodies covered in welts, eyes dead, souls shattered like they'd survived World War Twelve and a Half.
Shirou wheezed, back bent like a 100-year-old monk:
"What kind of… martial arts… is this demonic madness…"
Zoth sat cross-legged on a floating carpet, sipping tea, tapping a feather pen against a glowing score tablet:
"Shirou: good stamina, slow reflexes, but tough enough to take a beating — 6/10.
Shinji: poor dodge, weak response time, but cried at the right moment to buy time — a generous 5.5."
Shinji looked up, voice cracked with the taste of defeat and… snot in his lungs:
"Do… do we get any kind of consolation prize, Master…?"
Zoth smiled — a smile so angelic it looped back to fallen angel territory:
"Of course.
Tonight, you get to sleep… in wind tents."
Shirou's face twisted:
"…Wind tents?"
With a snap of Zoth's fingers — pop! — two transparent tents materialized midair.
No walls.
No floors.
Just wind.
And some paper birds acting as guy ropes.
Shinji burst into tears:
"NOOOOOOOO!!! I WANNA GO HOOOOME!!! I MISS MY 5-INCH MEMORY FOAM MATTRESS!!!"
Zoth shrugged:
"Tonight is for cultivating inner peace while sleeping.
Tomorrow morning — meditation under an acid waterfall."
"ZOTH SENSEI — YOU'RE NOT HUMAN!!!"
the boys screamed in sync, tears pouring like July storms.
Zoth nodded, proud:
"I know."