Far East, Fuyuki City.
Opening her eyes once more, what came into view was a gloomy sky.
Rolling dark clouds, ceaseless rumbling thunder, and cold raindrops forming fine threads plummeted onto the earth, painting the city with a gloomy hue.
In the woods on the outskirts of the city, a young girl lay on the ground with a daze in her eyes, as if she had yet to wake up from a dream.
That was a pretty girl with a mane of crimson long hair draped loosely over her.
She was probably around seventeen or eighteen years old, about 1.6 meters tall, wearing a black dress, with a plump figure, and a hint of wildcat-like unruliness between her brows.
If this were a teen romance comedy, the girl would undoubtedly be the undisputed female lead.
But whether it was the pair of pitch-black horns on her head resembling swords and halberds or the black-and-red greatsword placed beside her, both were showcasing her extraordinary identity.
Centered around the girl, the nearby rainwater was completely evaporated by an invisible heat, revealing a dry patch of space.
For a long time, the girl’s unfocused pupils gradually solidified, and her consciousness became clear.
Blinking her eyes, she propped herself up from the ground and sat up.
The girl had a dream.
She dreamed that she had turned into a sky-covering flame giant, wielding a flame sword on a land full of ice and snow, fighting fiercely with countless enemies.
A handsome youth riding a wild boar, an old man with one eye, a big dog with snow-white fur…
All enemies blocking her path would be swallowed by her flames, the ice and snow melted by the flames, and the crimson fire dyed the sky with the hue of dusk.
The grandness of the scene was much better than the movies she had watched before.
Until the flames swallowed the world, the giant herself fell into eternal darkness.
Reaching out her hand, she rubbed her temples.
Although it was a dream, it was simply too realistic, just like having personally experienced a second life.
Fortunately, she did not feel any emotions from the dream, acting like a machine that only knew how to execute orders, otherwise she might have already developed cognitive issues right now.
What a terrible experience.
Shaking her head and calming down a bit, she temporarily put the matter of the dream behind her.
Turning her head, she looked around.
Beneath her was dry earth, with gloomy woods growing on both sides.
Gorgeous neon lights could be seen in the distance, and firelight could be vaguely discerned emerging from the urban area, probably somewhere catching fire.
And she also noticed that a black-and-red greatsword was quietly lying beside her.
“Lævateinn.”
She instinctively blurted out the other’s name.
Of course she recognized it; if her memory was correct, she should still be at home farming events, getting ready to apply the continuous dusk buff to Sister 42, and as a result, with a blink of an eye, she ran off to such a place.
If this sword was here, wouldn’t that mean…
The girl lowered her head, and what met her eyes was snow-white skin that could be clearly recognized even in the dark, with a black belt crossing horizontally across her chest, the extreme colors forming a stark contrast.
Gulp.
Her throat made a swallowing motion.
The girl extended a hand, gently stroking the indescribable part below her neck and above her waist like a cat making biscuits.
An indescribable tactile sensation surged into the girl’s heart, causing her whole body to tremble slightly involuntarily.
So realistic.
After failing to resist touching it a couple more times, the girl reached a conclusion.
Maybe, probably, perhaps, she had transmigrated.
And she had turned into Surtr.
After reaching this conclusion, if she looked back at the scenes in the dream again…
That was probably none other than the battlefield of Ragnarok.
The one riding a pig was Freyr, the one-eyed one was Odin, and the big dog was Fenrir.
But where did Arknights get Norse gods from?
Surtr, or rather the behemoth Surtr, should have been slashing Sami, where did Odin come from?
Puzzling.
Perhaps she wasn’t the one from Arknights.
Miss Surtr could only come to this conclusion.
Without thinking too much more, she stood up holding the sword; compared to those incomprehensible things, determining her current location was much more important.
And after she raised this question, a mechanical female voice abruptly rang out in the girl’s mind.
[Current World Line: Fifth Holy Grail War, Host.]
“System?”
[You can understand it that way.]
“Fine.”
Without any major reaction, Surtr easily accepted this setting.
Since even transmigration had happened, having a system was no big deal either; anyway, it was all incomprehensible stuff.
“Did you bring me here? If possible, please send me back.”
She asked the question she cared about the most.
Unlike those orphan transmigrators, Surtr was not alone; not only were both her parents alive and her family harmonious, but she also had a non-blood-related pretty older sister who was determined to marry no one else but her.
Compared to adventuring in a strange world, she wanted to return to her original world even more.
[The host’s transmigration has nothing to do with the system; the system only bound itself after the host arrived in this world.]
[If the host wants to return to the original world, she can use the ‘Random World Travel’ function, which has a certain probability of returning to the original world.]
As it spoke, an illusory panel emerged in front of her vision, and at the bottom of the panel was a red button named “Random World Travel”.
Glancing at the introduction, just like the name suggested, which world one would travel to was completely random.
If one had enough gacha luck, they would hit it on the first try; if one’s face was a bit black, they wouldn’t even think about going back for the rest of their life.
It didn’t sound very reliable, but at least it wasn’t without any hope.
However, Miss Surtr was somewhat confident in her own luck; back then, she had max-potentialed Sister 42 in a single ten-pull.
Moving her gaze away from the button.
Although she really wanted to travel right now, looking at the introduction, a single travel required 2333 Primogems, which was obviously something she couldn’t afford right now.
“How do I obtain Primogems? Are there any quests?”
Not caring about such trivial details as why the primogem icon was unusually similar to a certain two-dimensional gacha game material, Surtr continued to ask.
[Quests need to be triggered by the host herself.]
The system responded.
[When a person’s wish is strong enough, above their head… the system will generate a quest. Completing quests can yield Primogems and other rewards.]
[In addition, killing enemies will also drop Primogems.]
Did this guy just want to say that an exclamation mark would appear above the head?
You play Genshin Impact too?
Surtr had a rough understanding of her own system and didn’t mind her system’s little hobby.
Pondering the two options given by the other party.
Compared to tasks like granting wishes which sounded very troublesome, the method of defeating monsters and getting drops was undoubtedly much easier.
Even in modern times, Type-Moon did not lack monsters, let alone now during the Holy Grail War.
According to the system, the stronger a person was, the higher the drops.
In this city, there probably wasn’t anything stronger than a Servant.
Raising her left hand, as if by instinct, a wisp of crimson flame rose at her fingertips.
The flame wrote her current name in the air according to her will, without the slightest trace of dissipation even in the rain curtain.
It definitely wasn’t at the strength level in the dream sufficient to hack gods to death, but wanting to burn the surrounding area to ashes shouldn’t be a problem.
The specific strength was hard to judge due to the lack of reference, but it should be about the same as this batch of Servants, enough to participate in this deadly ritual.
Waving her hand to disperse the flame in the air, the power in her body slightly alleviated the unease brought by Surtr’s transmigration.
Moreover, she was quite interested in the Holy Grail; of course, it had to be the pure version.
With that thing, granting wishes would save a lot of effort, right?
She had to admit, her heart was moved.
And purifying the Holy Grail wasn’t impossible either; you must know that this Holy Grail War featured Medea, a magic user of the Age of Gods.
The advantage of knowing the plot plus the other party’s magical skills meant that winning shouldn’t be too difficult of a matter.
She had already thought out the plan.
Marry, oh no, it was to loot Medea, then purify the Holy Grail and achieve victory.
A perfect plan.
Miss Surtr couldn’t help but admire herself for coming out with such a brilliant plan that would leave even the Queen speechless.
The only question now was whether Medea had been picked up by the Grand Teacher yet.
“What time is it now?”
Surtr asked Miss System.
[It is now 9:31 PM Tokyo time.]
“I didn’t ask you that, I’m asking what point of the plot it is right now.”
[I don’t know.]
The other party’s tone sounded somewhat helpless; she was just a system, not Doraemon.
“Fine.”
Somewhat regretful, next she could only try her luck.
“Then do you know how to get to Ryuudou Temple?”
Surtr asked without holding any expectations, and the result obtained was naturally negative.
After looking around at the nearby identical peaks, Miss Surtr still decided to go look for a helpful citizen wandering around at midnight to ask for directions.
In the woods outside Ryuudou Temple.
The earth became muddy due to the washing of the rainwater, and a blood-stained black-robed figure stumbled along the mountain road, physically weak and breathing heavily, as if she could topple to the ground at any moment.
But the staggering footsteps never stopped, as if escaping the pursuit of something.
Then, slap.
Sure enough, the figure fell to the ground, and mud splashed onto her blood-stained cheeks.
“Ha, ha, ha ha ha…”
Malingeringly rolling over, as if giving up, the woman let out a self-deprecating laugh.
The woman was named Medea, a Servant summoned by the magical ritual called the Holy Grail War.
But even before the Holy Grail War had started, her conflict with her summoner had reached an irreconcilable point.
The result was…
Her Master was dead, and she was also being hunted down by an assassin sent by the other party, about to meet her doom.
“The Betrayer Witch? Or perhaps ‘The Betrayed Witch’ would be more apt.”
Medea mocked herself.
The rain blurred her vision.
Her magical energy was like a breached flood, continuously draining from her body.
Her gradually weakening body was reminding Medea.
She was going to die.
She must be the Servant who exited the Holy Grail War the fastest.
Clearly arrogant that her magic level was no weaker than anyone else’s, yet she was eliminated because of incompatibility with her Master, and all that.
Such an ending is truly infuriating.
Tremblingly, she reached out her hand toward the sky, as if wanting to catch something, even though there was nothing there except the cold rain.
But the next moment, like a miracle, those palms seemed to truly catch something, warmth coming from the palms and sinking into her heart.
The surrounding chill was dispelled, and her body felt as comfortable as soaking in a warm spring.
In that gradually dissolving vision, a flash of crimson caught Medea’s eyes.