Chapter 45 (Patreon)

Kenjaku took out the Prison Realm.

Ragnar Kagenou stepped forward and reached for it—

And then, without warning, a burst of cheerful yet deeply unsettling music rang out.

The melody was bizarre, almost like some tune drifting up from the underworld itself, enough to make the hairs on the back of one’s neck stand up.

Along with that eerie music, a black figure flashed out like a phantom, silent and fast, and snatched away the Prison Realm in an instant.

“The Serbian Dancer?!”

Even Ragnar could not hide his shock.

The sudden turn of events made his movements freeze for the briefest moment. That eerie music was like some kind of demonic chant, dragging his consciousness into a fleeting daze.

By the time he snapped back to himself and looked over—

the black figure was already gone.

Not a trace remained, as though it had never been there at all.

At that moment, Ragnar could not sense even the faintest presence of that black shadow.

He frowned, alarm bells ringing in his mind.

Wait…

His gaze suddenly shifted toward Kenjaku’s side, and his expression changed.

The body Kenjaku had been using—that of the German officer—was still standing there.

But the brain inside the skull was gone.

“Tch… so that’s how far you were willing to go.”

Ragnar’s voice turned cold.

“The escape route you prepared for yourself was a special-grade cursed spirit.”

That was the truth.

The cursed spirit that had just carried off Kenjaku’s true body—the brain—was none other than the special-grade imaginary cursed spirit they had encountered before.

The Serbian Dancer.

Ragnar genuinely had not expected that.

Kenjaku had gone all out trying to kill him, to the point that Ragnar had believed every last trump card had already been revealed.

And yet, even then, Kenjaku had held something back.

Not just anything, either—but another special-grade cursed spirit.

If he had used it during the battle, his chances of victory would have risen considerably.

Which made it even more irritating.

Ragnar had been careless too.

During the fight, the Serbian Dancer had never shown herself even once, and because of that, he had unconsciously pushed her existence out of mind.

That single oversight had given Kenjaku his opening.

What made it even more troublesome was that even with the observation ability of Omniscient Vision, Ragnar still could not track the direction in which Kenjaku had fled.

Then, just as he was considering his next move, something unexpected happened.

The body Kenjaku had left behind suddenly began to tremble.

It shook faintly, as though some mysterious force were moving it from within.

“Residual curse activity…?”

The German officer’s body twitched unnaturally. But from its movements and vacant expression, it was obvious that there was no consciousness left inside.

Its limbs moved in stiff, jerky motions, like something that had not yet fully adapted to the flesh it was inhabiting.

Seeing the cursed presence stir again, Ragnar made his decision immediately.

“I need to exorcise it before it stabilizes.”

Against curses and cursed spirits, the proper countermeasure was simple—

use the Noble Phantasm best suited to annihilating them.

Ragnar reached into the Gate of Babylon.

With a flash of light, a strangely shaped spear appeared in his hand.

At first glance, it resembled the legendary Ame-no-Sakahoko.

Yet its form was far more refined, more solemn, more beautiful than the divine spear known in myth.

The blade was snow-white at the tip, gradually fading into a gorgeous sunset blend of yellow and pink, before deepening into a rich blue along the spiral near its base.

Eight glowing green magatama wound around the shaft, adding an even deeper sense of mystery to it.

This was ama-no-sakahoko—

a weapon specialized in suppressing cursed spirits and spiritual entities.

Ragnar gripped the spear, his gaze as cold as ice.

“Go back to the underworld.”

The moment he drove ama-no-sakahoko through the German officer’s body—

the cursed spirit inhabiting it began to collapse instantly, as though its very existence were being reversed.

【Special-Grade Incarnated Cursed Spirit exorcised. Cursed Energy increased by 1000 points】

Cursed Energy: 840 / 4540

【Gate of Babylon – First Seal Released】

【A-rank Noble Phantasms unlocked】

Ragnar stared at the message, then narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Wait… then why didn’t exorcising the Rain Spirit earlier raise my cursed energy cap?”

A new response appeared immediately.

【Special-Grade Imaginary Cursed Spirit — Rain Spirit: still alive, not fully exorcised】

“Still alive?”

Ragnar’s expression darkened.

“That’s impossible. I clearly—”

Then he stopped.

“No… wait.”

His eyes lowered toward the missing Prison Realm.

“Does that mean the Rain Spirit only counts as fully exorcised if the Prison Realm itself is completely destroyed?”

【Correct】

Ragnar let out a low sigh.

“Fine.”

His voice turned colder.

“So my grudge with Kenjaku isn’t over yet.”

After fully suppressing the cursed spirit disaster in London, Ragnar finally reunited with Shoko Ieiri.

On a deserted street, Shoko was leaning against the roadside, casually preparing to light a cigarette.

“Yo, Shoko. Why are you still hanging around here?”

Hearing Ragnar’s voice, she turned and looked at him.

Shoko clicked her tongue.

“Tch. Do you really have to make me treat you to a meal?”

“Of course.”

Ragnar answered as if it were obvious.

“What? It’s not like I eat that much.”

“Sure,” Shoko said dryly. “But I’m telling you now, don’t expect some fancy high-end place.”

Ragnar shrugged.

“You’re the one paying. I’m not picky.”

Yeah right, Shoko thought.

But in the end, she gave up arguing and led him to a restaurant.

Unexpectedly, after an incident on that scale, there were already places open for business again.

Inside the dim and rather bleak-looking restaurant, Ragnar shifted uneasily in his seat.

Shoko, scrolling through her phone beside him, glanced over suspiciously.

“Ran—”

She caught herself, then lazily corrected it with a smirk.

“Ragnar. What’s with you?”

Ragnar answered with unusual seriousness.

“Uh… I really don’t think we absolutely have to eat this meal in the UK.”

That immediately piqued Shoko’s interest.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, clearly amused. “British food’s actually pretty decent.”

Ragnar stared at her.

Decent my ass.

The recipe book for British cuisine probably had fewer pages than the table of contents of a proper Japanese cookbook.

Shoko grinned.

“Hehe. I already ordered a few good dishes.”

Ragnar slowly turned toward her.

“By the way… does the menu have pictures?”

Shoko thought about it for a moment.

“No.”

Ragnar’s expression went blank.

“It’s over.”

Given Britain’s culinary reputation, he had no way of knowing what kind of dark matter was about to arrive at the table.

And sure enough, the first dish placed in front of him nearly wiped out his appetite on sight.

Steak and kidney pie.

“Oh, come on…”

It looked like some cursed mooncake stuffed with beef and kidneys.

Then came the next one.

Jellied eels.

Ragnar stared at it in silence for a few seconds.

“…I hate this country.”

It was not completely impossible to eat, but that was hardly the point.

It vaguely resembled fish aspic at a glance, yet the taste was so bizarre it felt like an act of malice.

It was an experience that seemed specifically designed to attack the human spirit.

And then came the true main event.

Stargazy pie.

“What a beautiful name,” Ragnar muttered. “Too bad the actual dish looks like something that died while staring back.”

The moment he saw the fish heads poking out of the crust, every worldly desire in his body vanished on the spot.

As for dessert—

Shoko was already grinning by then.

“Here comes the best part.”

Sussex Pond Pudding.

Ragnar looked at it. Then looked again.

“…Who taught the British how to cook?”

He pointed at it with complete disbelief.

“What kind of monster puts an entire lemon inside a pudding?”

For the first time that night, after surviving cursed spirits, Domain Expansions, Kenjaku, and London itself—

Ragnar Kagenou felt truly defeated.

Noble Phantasm: ama-no-sakahoko

Rank: B

Type: Anti-Spirit Noble Phantasm

Description:

An ominous ritual that reverses and recreates the Birth of the Nation once performed by the divine pair, Izanagi and Izanami.

By wielding a replica of the divine ritual spear Ame-no-Sakahoko, it stirs the boundary of space-time itself.

Through precise structural inference and calculation, it returns everything contained within the target space—its structure, mass, meaning, and connections—to primordial chaos.

When used against curses, it can sever and erase the structure of cursed energy itself.

A spear that inverts entropy and sends all things back to the underworld.