"Eh--?!"

------------

"The theft of the legendary French sword Durandal from a cliff has sparked widespread concern and heightened tensions..."

The sound of the news broadcast on TV echoed in the slightly empty living room. The voice was low and cold, echoing the cold early winter night outside.

"French police have launched an urgent investigation and carried out an extensive search operation near the scene of the incident. Relevant departments said they are making every effort to find possible theft suspects. At present, we do not know what the suspect who stole the sword intends to do. In fact, the sword stuck in the cliff is just a replica. The real one..."

"It's almost time," Xing Qingfeng sighed softly, slowly rising from the sofa where he had sunk deep. He picked up the beer can and downed the last sip of the icy liquid. Outside the window, the early winter night in Kyoto seemed particularly chilly. The branches of the plum trees seemed somewhat bare, with only a few dead leaves swaying in the cold wind. The early winter wind, with its biting chill, blew slowly from the depths of the bamboo forest, making a low, muffled sound.

Perhaps it was because the house was located in a remote corner of Kyoto, but even on his first day there, Xing Qingjiu was already feeling lazy. His body seemed to be naturally drawn to the sofa, as if he had found a long-lost home. The soft sofa seemed to have some kind of magic, making it difficult for him to get up once he sat down. His hands seemed to have a mind of their own, always reaching for the refrigerator and accurately retrieving the ice-cold beer inside.

Xing Qingfu believes that he does not want to give up subjectively.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. At the moment approaching midnight, the summons of the Servant would be unsealed. Although Xing Qingjiu wasn't bound by this rule, it would seem petty if he took advantage of even such a small matter.

He wasn't interested in winning anyway.

Although the Servant Summoning was about to begin, Xing Qingfeng did not prepare any holy relics or the like. Instead, he lazily walked towards the warehouse to set up his equipment.

The acquisition of Command Seals has been delayed. A Master can only obtain them after using the Philosopher's Stone to summon a Servant. This means that Mastership is no longer fixed to a single individual. Perhaps in future Holy Grail Wars, tactics will emerge to seize Mastership before a Servant is summoned.

For Xing Qingxu, the Command Seal was completely useless, as it couldn't be engraved on him. Xing Qingxu expected that when he acquired the Command Seal, it would simply dissipate into pure mana, creating a temporary high-magic environment.

His current mentality was simple: no more than three stones. Whenever he had the chance, he would use his instruments to observe and record data, hoping for something valuable to emerge. It was like throwing the cards into the card pool as soon as he had enough for a single draw, then praying for a single draw to yield something valuable.

"Declare—"

Since the summoning circle is embedded in the Philosopher's Stone, there is no need to chant the spell used to activate the summoning circle.

The six philosopher stones were activated almost simultaneously at midnight, interacting with the magic power in the earth veins and even causing a minor earthquake in the Kyoto area.

"Your body is at my service, and my life is at your sword's.

The emaciated black-haired girl had dirty blood constantly oozing from her mouth. Behind her, the blonde girl was sleeping in a wheelchair.

The body the girl currently controlled was long dead. If it weren't for a temporary endosymbiotic relationship with some creature, she wouldn't even be able to control this corpse. However, since it wasn't her original body, and the relationship wasn't stable, she would often experience inexplicable issues like a surge in magic power or severe immune rejection. These issues became even more frequent when she was controlling her magic power.

"Cough... cough cough cough..." The dirty blood mixed with algae came out along with the girl's cough.

"Answering the call of the Holy Grail;"

"If you wish to follow this intention and this principle, then answer it;"

You Ruoyu carefully placed the rusty longsword in the center of the summoning circle. Her original plan was to summon it based on affinity without relying on a summoning catalyst.

—After all, it feels a bit strange to forcibly summon a historical predecessor using a domestic catalyst on a Japanese leyline. If it were a summon based on affinity, then only those who wanted to come would come.

However, now that he has one of the three great holy swords in Europe, it would be a waste not to use it.

"The legendary Durandal..." The girl looked at the long sword in the formation. It was so rusty that she felt a little uneasy.

"I swear this;"

The young man irritably closed his notebook with a soft snap, as if in silent protest at his fruitless efforts. On the scattered papers on the table, scattered words recorded fragments of his attempts to compose a thought.

Yet, despite his repeated attempts to condense these ideas into words, they ultimately remained nothing more than blank drafts and disjointed trains of thought. He had hoped to write something that was truly Japanese, something imbued with the weight of history and depth of culture. But every time he put pen to paper, it felt like he hit an invisible wall, blocking all inspiration and passion, leaving only an inner restlessness that continued to accumulate.

Just as his thoughts were swirling, a sudden, minor earthquake struck. The floor began to tremble slightly, and his body swayed with it, nearly losing his balance. The tremor wasn't strong, but it caused the books on the shelves to lose their balance and fall off the shelves with a clatter. It was as if the entire room was in turmoil at his anxiety.

A heavy dictionary fell to the ground with a dull sound, and several hardcover books rolled down one after another, with the pages fluttering in the air like restless butterfly wings.

He glanced at the books scattered on the ground, but he had no intention of sorting them out. Right now, he didn't have time to sort out these messy books. The most important thing at the moment was to summon a Servant.

"I am the one who accomplishes all good in the world;"

"I am the one who transmits all the evil in the world;"

"Fuck! Don't fold you like that!"

Xing Qingfan screamed and rushed towards his precious instrument using all four limbs.

He had long anticipated that the activation of the Command Spell might cause violent fluctuations in magical power—

——But he had never anticipated that when the three command spells were activated simultaneously, the high magical environment created would almost burn his equipment at the peak moment.

A summoning ritual? How could something like that be more important than my own instrument?

Anyway, the summoning of the Philosopher's Stone is basically a fully automatic mode. After starting it, just leave it there and it will complete the whole process.

The indicator lights on the circuit board flickered, as if struggling to send out a final distress signal. A burning smell emanated from the interior of the instrument. With the impact of magic power, some components began to smoke, and some parts were even charred.

"Hold on! Hold on! I'm coming to save you, brother!" Xing Qingfu tried to soothe the machine spirit with words while quickly dismantling the outer casing of his instrument and pulling out the parts inside that had begun to smoke.

"You are the Seventh Heaven who is entangled with the three great word spirits;"

"Cross the wheel of inhibition and emerge;"

"Guardian of the Scales!"

Inside the Ninomaru Palace, a short, gaunt, elderly man stood at the center of the summoning circle. His figure loomed dim and deep in the darkness, seemingly blending seamlessly with the surrounding shadows. As the shadow cast by the Philosopher's Stone faded, the faint light vanished, and the entire space was once again engulfed in profound darkness. The air grew heavier, almost oppressive, even breathing felt like a strain.

"What's going on? Can't even light the lights in Nijo Castle right now?" Old Yi0yi asked. The Reimuja's voice was particularly abrupt in the silence, but he seemed to feel he shouldn't make a big deal about it, so he said casually, "Well, never mind. Saving a little is always a good thing."

He stretched lazily, his joints making a slight crackling sound that was unusually clear in the silent palace. As he moved lazily, the air seemed to loosen a little, and the darkness seemed to soften slightly because of his posture.

After he stretched his muscles, the old man finally turned his gaze to the summoner standing beside him.

"Class Archer, Tokugawa Ieyasu, I never thought I'd be able to return to Nijo Castle one day. I miss it so much."

————————————————————

The structure of the last paragraph is a bit like FZ's original work. If I follow this approach, I don't need to devote a separate chapter to the summoning and other things, and I can compress the information more tightly. However, I'm not sure if this will be too messy. The pronouns are already clearly divided and there are no repetitions. What do you think?

I originally planned to portray Tokugawa's lord, but in the end I adjusted this line to a hidden line and hid the content related to Tokugawa's lord. On the one hand, the original description was as a counterpart to the Tokyo University youth, but I thought about it carefully and felt that too much content would distract from the main topic, so I hid it.

On the other hand, this is also more in line with the positioning of Tokugawa Old Turtle——

——He would just quietly wait for the opportunity that would determine victory.

The above is a new book by a new author. Please vote and give feedback. Thank you!

Volume 5: The Kyoto Holy Grail War Without a Nagging Message: . Schrödinger, but he didn't seem to bring his cat

With the conclusion of the summoning ritual, the Philosopher's Stone faded its radiance, transforming back into its inconspicuous green cube. Standing within the summoning circle was an elderly man wearing round-framed glasses, his hair streaked with gray and white. His hair had thinned with age, revealing his smooth forehead. Despite this, he maintained a neat hairstyle, meticulously combing his hair.

His face was thin, with prominent cheekbones and a slender chin, a hint of sagging from age. His nose was high and slightly rounded at the tip, lending him a gentler look. The marks of time etched his features, with deep wrinkles crisscrossing his forehead, the corners of his eyes, and the corners of his mouth.

While still quite tall and straight, his back had become slightly bent, and his shoulders slumped slightly. He wore a dark suit that was understated yet well-fitting, though the cut was a bit loose. He wore a simple dark blue tie over his shirt, and a clean handkerchief peeked from his jacket pocket.

The old man was about to introduce himself when he realized he was alone. He took in his surroundings and realized he was in a warehouse. Silence reigned, with only the faint moonlight filtering through the skylight, illuminating the chaotic scene within. Tools and spare parts lay scattered across the floor, and the air was thick with the smell of burning.

His Master—if the young man sprawled on the ground, babbling incoherently while repairing the instrument was his Master—seemed completely oblivious to the fact that the summoning ritual had concluded. The instrument before him was making a soft hissing sound, emitting a faint wisp of white smoke, clearly suffering considerable damage. The toolbox lid was wide open, its tools scattered about, as if hastily discarded. The young man, however, was evidently unconcerned, completely absorbed in his work, oblivious to his surroundings.

Caster raised his eyebrows slightly, swallowing the self-introduction he had prepared. He scanned the room, observing the equipment arranged around him. He walked behind the young man with interest, carefully examining the complex equipment before him. He squatted down, his shirt hem lightly touching the ground, and carefully examined the internal connections.

"Here," Caster's voice was soft and magnetic, pointing to the rectangular quartz tube in the instrument. "If you want to use the magnetization of a medium to measure magnetic field changes, I suggest using gas instead."

"Although the magnetization of gas is extremely weak, requiring you to significantly increase the accuracy," Caster continued, his tone revealing the rigor of an academic discussion, "gas is simpler than solids or liquids, and it does not hinder theoretical investigations." He tapped the quartz tube lightly with his finger, and the crisp sound echoed in the empty room.

At that moment, the young man seemed to realize there was someone standing next to him. He suddenly stopped what he was doing, straightened up, and turned around, his face filled with apology and surprise. "Oh, sorry, sorry, I didn't realize the summoning ceremony was over." He quickly wiped the grease from his hands on himself before extending his hand to Caster. "My name is Xing Qingjiu, whatever you call me is fine. May I ask who you are?"

Although Xing Qingfeng asked Caster's name after introducing himself, in fact, the moment he saw the old man, he already had a guess in his mind -

"—Erwin Rudolf Joseph Alexander Schrödinger," Caster smiled slightly and replied modestly, "Just call me Schrödinger. I'm just an ordinary theoretical physicist, but I've made some contributions to biology."

"It's you, after all! I've seen your portrait!" Xing Qingfeng was a little excited, his words filled with unconcealed excitement. His eyes darted back and forth over Schrödinger's face, as if comparing the real person with the portrait in his memory.

"But, may I ask what you meant just now...?" Xing Qingyu suppressed his excitement and tried to bring the topic back to the previous discussion.

"I'm just guessing the purpose of your instrument." Schrödinger said slowly, his tone calm and steady, his eyes shifting from the instrument to

"Yes, just a moment," Xing Qingqiu replied immediately, turning to pull out a thick, hardcover notebook from his backpack beside the chair. It looked like it had been used frequently, with the cover slightly curled and the surface a bit worn, but it remained neat and organized. He flipped to a certain page and handed it to Schrödinger with a touch of respect. "Everything from this page onward is here."

Schrödinger took the notebook, lightly brushed his fingers across the cover, and then carefully flipped open the pages. The rustling of the paper echoed through the room, remarkably clear. He read intently through Xing Qingjiu's notes, nodding slowly from time to time, his lips curling slightly.

"Hmm, that's quite detailed." His voice was full of praise, but his tone remained steady. "Trying to reflect the patterns of changes in the magic field through changes in the magnetic field? That's a good idea, but there's a problem with the device."

"That's true," Xing Qingqiu scratched his head awkwardly. He hadn't expected Schrödinger to be able to find the problem just by looking at the instruments and experimental log. "But I'm studying the relationship between spirits and magic..."

"I think with the current accuracy, we might need to observe a large enough spirit summoning ritual to get useful data."

"Do you know why I asked you to change the medium to gas?" Schrödinger suddenly asked.

"You mean Langevin's explanation?"

"That's right," Schrödinger nodded, straightened up, and continued, "Let's take oxygen as an example. The magnetization of oxygen increases with the strength of the field you apply, and this proportional relationship can be maintained up to extremely high field strengths. By observing the magnetization, you can reflect the changes in the magnetic field strength."

"But if you consider individual oxygen molecules," Schrödinger continued, "they are little magnets. They tend to align themselves with the magnetic field, like a compass needle. In a magnetic field, they do tend to have a certain orientation, but at the same time they are also disturbed by thermal motion."

Simply put, the behavior of molecules is not absolute because they are also affected by thermal motion, which causes them to tend to follow the direction of the magnetic field while being constantly disrupted by random thermal disturbances.

"Although these small magnets tend to align parallel to the magnetic field, the reality is that they are constantly affected by thermal motion, causing them to randomly change their orientation." Schrödinger stopped pausing after seeing that Xing Qingqi was fully following his train of thought. "However, if we look at this phenomenon from a macroscopic perspective, on average, the tendency toward the direction of the field and proportional to the field strength is slightly predominant—"

"—and this is the explanation of magnetization."

"Hmm... I understand that, but why do you think it needs to be revised here..." Xing Qingqiu's fingers tapped lightly on the edge of the notebook, his brows slightly furrowed, showing that he was trying to digest Schrödinger's suggestion. "Do you think that under the influence of magic, the movement of a single magnet will also change?"

"That's right," Schrödinger replied thoughtfully, his eyes wandering over the various instruments in the laboratory. "The target you need to observe must be precise enough to detect the changes of each small magnet in the magic field, especially the dynamic process of these changes. In this day and age, there should be more precise electronic microscopes, right?"

"We don't have an STM (Scanning Tunneling Microscope) yet. I might need to go back to school and apply for one at the lab," Xing Qingfeng said, quickly pondering a solution. "No, I can't guarantee the safety of the experiment. It would be ridiculous if the school got blown up."

"Let's contact Kenneth and buy one from IBM."

"If there really were a molecular-scale microscope, I'd really love to see more of it," Schrödinger exclaimed. "However, since current equipment doesn't allow for further improvements in precision, the object you observe must be large enough to allow you to rely on statistics to approximate the answer."

“But don’t forget the √n-law, or the expected value of uncertainty,” Schrödinger thought for a moment and added, “If you want to rely on sample size to reduce the standard deviation, the sample size must be large enough.”

"...Haha, it looks like there's still a lot of work to be done." Xing Qingfeng sighed, "If I follow the √n law, then if I want to reduce the error to one thousandth—"

"—My sample size must reach millions," he muttered, his tone filled with melancholy and resignation. "I originally considered improving the accuracy, but I couldn't find the direction. It's still a drudgery after all."

"Sooner or later, I will let other people experience the feeling of being in prison." It is obvious that Xing Qingwu has the virtue of putting himself in other people's shoes.

"Change the medium to oxygen first," Schrödinger instructed calmly. "I'll explain the reason to you when I get a chance."

"Since I've helped you so much, you should help me too, right?" Schrödinger suddenly changed the subject, his tone tinged with joking and mischievousness, "Take me to experience the unique culture of Japan."

"Huh?" Xing Qingyu was stunned for a moment, obviously not understanding what Schrödinger was talking about.

"Isn't this Kyoto, Japan?" Schrödinger asked in return. "I heard that courtesans and geishas are quite popular, aren't they?"

He leaned forward slightly, with an inappropriate excitement, "Take me to see it."

Xing Qingyu's brain was a little stagnant for a moment. The Schrödinger in front of him still maintained his elegant image, especially when he was seriously discussing the development direction of the research just a second ago.

But, but, why is it that the first thing Schrödinger wants to do after appearing in this world is to find the Oiran Geisha?!

------------

"We're finally here." Sharma dragged his slightly heavy steps, looking particularly exhausted as he walked through the dark streets of Kyoto. Since summoning his Servant, he had been traveling almost non-stop from the Middle East to Japan. He had actually landed in Tokyo during the day, but by the time he finally arrived in Kyoto, it was already late at night.

Why did he delay so late? The reason was simple: he couldn't understand Tokyo's complex public transportation information. It wasn't because he didn't know Japanese, but because he was completely at a loss for what to do with the maze-like route map and the awful transfer system.

He finally arrived in Kyoto around midnight. Even then, the city was completely silent, with only the occasional wind stirring fallen leaves from the street corners. Walking along the quiet streets, Sharma looked around, the streetlights casting a shadow on his face, making him look tired and haggard. He dragged his suitcase, its wheels making a rhythmic creaking sound on the asphalt.

"Let me think about it, let's find a place to stay first..." he muttered to himself. However, after taking a few steps, he suddenly stopped, his body tensed, as if he realized something.

"Karna?" Sharma called softly, with a hint of uncertainty in his tone.

As soon as he finished speaking, tiny specks of golden light suddenly appeared in the air. These lights quickly coalesced into a slender figure. He was dressed primarily in black, accentuating the paleness of his skin. The golden armor he wore, like an ornament, stood out against the night sky. His eyes were as sharp as a slashing sword, and the ruby embedded in his exposed chest echoed this, creating a seductive aura.

"Enemy attack, Master, please step back." Karna said briefly.

Sharma quickly stepped back, staring nervously ahead. Not far away, a man, completely shrouded in black fog, stood silently. The mist seemed alive, constantly twisting and swirling, as if deliberately concealing his true identity. His features were lost in the thick darkness, unrecognizable. However, the gleaming Japanese katana was clearly visible, reflecting a cold gleam under the dim streetlight.

The uninvited guest stood outside the dim glow of the streetlights, as if deliberately avoiding any light source that might reveal his features. The surrounding streets were silent, the night shrouding Kyoto like a thick layer of ink. An occasional breeze rustled the fallen leaves, only to deepen the stillness.

He showed no signs of rushing to attack. Instead, he stood there quietly, like a statue, appearing calm and composed. Black mist swirled around him like a living being, sometimes dispersing and sometimes converging with the breeze, obscuring his figure even further. His composure seemed to be waiting for some opportunity, as if he was in no rush to make his intentions known.

"He's probably not a Servant summoned during the Holy Grail War," Karna said to Sharma, seeing through the true nature of the newcomer at a glance, "and he's very weak."

"Really... can we capture him alive?"

"If he has no other means..." Just before he finished speaking, a massive spear appeared in his hand. It was so massive that it was unimaginable for any human to wield it, yet it was as delicate as a priceless work of art.

Before he finished speaking, the spear suddenly erupted with intense magical power, as if ready to burst into flames. A powerful cyclone swept out with his charge, instantly stirring the surrounding air into violent vibrations.

The man in the black fog didn't move, simply pointing his blade at Karna. Just as Karna's spear was about to strike its target, the black fog suddenly surged violently, and the uninvited visitor vanished without a trace, as if he had never existed. Karna's spear pierced the empty black fog, its powerful force encountering no physical resistance. Only the aftermath of the cyclone remained in the air, echoing in the night.

"...Sorry, he got away." Karna retracted his spear, his tone tinged with regret. His eyes still scanned the surroundings warily, but all he could see was the deserted streets and the occasional whiff of the night breeze. It was as if the uninvited guest had never appeared, leaving no trace.

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I'm stuck again, so uncomfortable

I don't know what you think of this chapter. I feel like it's unnecessary to explain it in such detail, but it would be a little lacking if I don't describe it in detail. I think you should be able to understand it. (

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