Chapter Sixty-Four: The Arcane Inscription

“Ah… hiss!” Two days had passed since the transplantation of the magical circuits, yet Feng Xue still lay in bed, enduring pain that showed no sign of abating.

The intense stinging sensation was as if his skin had been peeled away and immersed in salt water, tormenting every nerve in his body.

The magical crest of the Matou family was different from those of ordinary mage families. Due to Zouken Matou’s frequent need to change bodies, he was forced to split the magical crest and engrave it onto crest worms, which themselves were consumable entities. Over hundreds of years, Zouken had inscribed countless copies of the magical crest onto these worms.

This was why the Central Academy for Transmigrators lacked reserves of the Makiri family’s magical crest—it was simply too troublesome. To acquire a complete Matou crest, one would have to wipe out all of Zouken’s crest worms in a single sweep (and keep them intact), then remove any redundant sections, and finally assemble a set of complete magical crests.

Moreover, because the crest was already fragmented, integrating those scattered segments required a skilled mage, someone adept at consolidation, to maximize the conservation of space.

Don’t think that saving space is trivial—take the Tohsaka family, their magical crest nearly covers an entire arm, yet that’s not considered much. Among the three founding families, Tohsaka’s lineage is the most shallow. If not for their connection to the jewel magus who mastered the Second Magic, they would never have stood alongside Einzbern and Makiri. Yet the jewel magus never passed his crest to Tohsaka—indeed, he never died, so inheritance was impossible.

As for proof? Just look at the structure of the Holy Grail system. Einzbern completed the spell system of the Grail, Makiri constructed the contract and command seal systems, while Tohsaka merely provided the ley lines and the land.

If you insist on comparison, look at the Emiya family: Kiritsugu Emiya inherited only a small part of the crest, which still covered his entire lower back. In other words, the original Emiya crest could cover the whole back—a testament to the level of a mage family that trades in technique.

The Makiri family is even more terrifying. Thanks to the crest worms, Zouken Matou completely ignored the caution that most mage families exercise with their magical crests, stuffing anything and everything into them—even his memories! (This old worm’s soul itself resides in the worms, so memory would naturally be there, though backups must be numerous.)

Thus, after hunting down Zouken Matou, the magical circuits obtained—even after integration—spanned over two square meters. For most people, even including the eyelids, it wouldn’t be enough! (The average male’s skin surface area is about 1.9 square meters.)

After consulting Feng Xue, the academy removed Zouken’s memories and a large amount of familiar and insect magic, retaining only the core Makiri family research and magecraft. Even so, the remaining magical crest covered all of Feng Xue’s back, and thanks to the seniors’ aesthetic design, it became a rather exquisite tattoo. (The form of magical circuits can be altered—for instance, Rin’s crest might look like a circuit board due to hasty transplantation or a lack of artistic sense, while the segment she transplanted onto Shirou took the shape of a fish.)

It was a ferocious feathered serpent with four wings, its two pairs of massive, scaled wings covering the entire back. The slender serpent’s body coiled and rested at the waist, its menacing yet dignified head nestled against the neck. Dark mist, like the air of calamity, spread from its shoulders and enveloped most of the arms, nearly reaching the wrists (meaning the crest overflowed from the back and continued onto the arms). Why the arms and not the chest?

Just look at Feng Xue’s current misery—had both chest and back been transplanted, Feng Xue would have been forced to rest suspended like a puppet!

Indeed, that opening cry of pain belonged to Feng Xue, sprawled on the bed.

Because the magical crest connected directly to his nerves, Feng Xue was unable to stand for a time (even a tough man like Kiritsugu spent days bedridden after his transplantation), forced to conduct all activities from his bed. Thankfully, this era offered fasting pills that sated hunger while minimizing waste, sparing Feng Xue the experience of relieving himself while lying face-down; even so, urinating prone was torment enough.

Though the transplantation had only just finished, Feng Xue could not wait to attempt magical energy generation. Just as described in the original story, a pain akin to an IV drip containing potassium instantly flooded all his magical circuits—a sensation only those who have experienced such a drip could comprehend. Feng Xue, reckless as ever, had transplanted a hundred circuits! The pain coursed through nearly his entire body, compounded by the intense nerve agony in his back and arms, almost driving him mad in an instant.

Yet Feng Xue did not stop this near-masochistic ordeal—not because he enjoyed pain, but because he knew that as a mage, this was a rite of passage. Only by becoming accustomed to such agony could he avoid exposing a weakness in battle.

Since he had chosen magecraft, he was prepared to endure this suffering.

Of course, resolve was one thing—the pain remained just as unbearable!

…

“Master, your classmates have come to visit you.” As Feng Xue endured the pain and accumulated magical energy, Xiao He’s voice suddenly came from the bedroom doorway, interrupting his self-inflicted ordeal.

“Oh, who is it? Hiss… careful!” Feng Xue asked Xiao He to help him sit up, but once again aggravated the injury on his back.

“Xia Mi and Mu Qianrou,” Xiao He replied, expressionless, as she propped Feng Xue up. With the magical circuits covering his back, even leaning against a cushion was intolerable, so Xiao He had to support him.

“Let them up,” Feng Xue said, wondering inwardly about the purpose of their visit.

Since Xiao He was holding Feng Xue, she couldn’t get up herself and had to open the door remotely. The moment the door opened, a voice already reached Feng Xue’s ears—

“I see you’ve turned lazy on your long break. Are you at home playing doctor-and-patient games with your little maid?”

Xia Mi looked at Feng Xue with a playful grin, but her eyes held a question.

“It’s the magical crest transplant! Who could have guessed the Makiri crest would be on par with the Emiya family in sheer size? Hiss…” Feng Xue exclaimed, but immediately pulled at the injury on his back again.

“So I guess you can’t transmigrate now?” Mu Qianrou shrugged. “We actually came to tell you—the batch of Digital World worlds has been stabilized, and as a reward for our excellent evaluation, we’ve got approval. The trip is in three days.”

“Go? Of course I’ll go!” Feng Xue’s eyes lit up at once. After all, Xia Mi had mentioned before that transmigrating to the Digital World didn’t require taking one’s physical body—an ideal chance to escape the pain for a while.