As Kenneth turned his gaze toward that divine thunder…
Elsewhere, on the opposite side of Fuyuki—within one of the Three Founding Families of the Holy Grail War—the Tohsaka household…
Things were… complicated.
The atmosphere inside the stately manor, home to generations of magi, was less dignified than one might expect. Its current head, the ever-elegant, aristocratic Tohsaka Tokiomi—known for his poise and tradition—was currently wearing an incredibly conflicted expression as he stared across his living room.
Behind him, his gentle and graceful wife, Aoi Tohsaka, had just placed the freshly prepared dinner on the table.
And directly in front of him—
Sprawled lazily across the living room couch, sipping soda and crunching on potato chips, was a tiny figure with twin pigtails and the impish charm of a child: Tohsaka Rin.
She was seven years old, still in elementary school, and currently watching TV with the demeanor of an unruly goblin. Her posture was anything but elegant. She was a far cry from the graceful mage Tokiomi hoped to raise. But to any casual observer, this might've looked like a heartwarming family moment.
And in some ways, it was.
Except… the Tohsakas weren't a normal family. They were one of the founding houses of the Holy Grail War. And Tokiomi—still days away from the war's opening act—was one of its confirmed Masters.
He knew full well that the Holy Grail War showed no mercy. There was no such thing as "civilians" or "safe zones." If a Servant chose to strike, not even the most fortified magus workshop could withstand the assault.
Logically, Tokiomi had planned to send his family to a secure location well before the fighting began.
And he would have done just that… if not for his Servant.
Ever since the summoning ritual, everything had gone horribly off-script. Not only had his careful plans unraveled, but even his lifelong dedication to grace and nobility had begun to crack under pressure.
Still, no matter how things spiraled out of control—he would not give in! He was a Tohsaka. He would remain elegant and composed!
Repeating his family's creed over and over like a mantra—Always act with elegance, never disgrace the name of Tohsaka—Tokiomi smoothed his features and forced himself to breathe evenly.
And then, like a man marching toward execution, he walked forward with practiced poise and offered his warmest fatherly smile.
Looking at his daughter, he said in a gentle voice, "Rin, it's time for dinner. Be a good girl now, turn off the television."
For someone who usually played the role of strict, stoic father, it was a painfully awkward tone.
But he powered through it.
And in response, his beloved, adorable, sweet little girl—his energetic, bright-eyed Rin—glanced up at him.
And said, in the pure, innocent voice of a seven-year-old child:
"Shut up, dumbass. You're blocking the TV."
…
Tohsaka Tokiomi's elegant smile crumbled.
His face turned the color of liver.
He knew this would happen.
He knew it!
He wanted to scream: "How dare you speak to your father like that!"
But after a long pause… he swallowed the words.
No. He would endure.
He must endure.
And so, Tokiomi did the unthinkable. He straightened his posture, adjusted his tone, and bowed slightly.
"I apologize… Goddess Ishtar. It was impudent of me to disturb you."
Yes. He apologized.
To his daughter.
Not to Rin, the child.
But to Ishtar—the goddess who had descended into her.
Regardless of semantics… there was no doubt his dignity as a father had taken a devastating hit.
Tohsaka Tokiomi felt that from this moment on, he might never be able to lift his head in front of his daughter again. But that didn't matter. To reach the Root—it was all worth it! Tears shimmered in his eyes as he clung to that thought.
"If you know you've overstepped, then get out of the way. You're blocking the screen." The tiny Rin—or rather, the goddess Ishtar currently inhabiting her—scolded him without mercy.
"Yes!" Tokiomi quickly stepped aside. He looked at his elementary-school-aged daughter. No matter how surreal it still felt, he had already accepted it.
—His summoned Servant had taken possession of his daughter's body.
But even more than the fact that a Heroic Spirit had possessed Rin, what truly rattled him was that this so-called Servant claimed to be a goddess.
That was supposed to be impossible.
Divinity stood far above Heroic Spirits in terms of spiritual rank. Gods were walking embodiments of mystery—existences that even magi dreamed of comprehending, let alone summoning.
Under no circumstances should the standard summoning ritual for a Servant result in the descent of an actual deity.
Granted… he had botched the setup for the ritual. He'd lost the holy relic he had prepared.
And yes… his young daughter Rin had somehow wandered into the summoning chamber mid-ritual and accidentally fallen into the center of the magic circle.
But still—none of that should've led to this.
According to the so-called Ishtar, Rin had acted as a unique catalyst. Their compatibility had been unexpectedly high. The goddess had grown curious and—out of sheer boredom—decided to descend into the human realm.
Tokiomi, however, didn't understand any of it.
He knew his daughter was a prodigy, yes. But that was in terms of magical talent. He had no idea she possessed the spiritual vessel quality of a shrine maiden—capable of housing a god's soul.
Yet, facts were facts. Whether he liked it or not, it had already happened.
He let out a long, weary sigh.
"Tokiomi…"
From behind, his wife Aoi's gentle voice reached him, full of motherly concern.
No matter what had possessed their daughter—even if it was a goddess—Rin's body was still that of a seven-year-old girl.
And a mother couldn't stand the idea of her child going hungry.
Feeling the weight of her gaze, Tokiomi sighed once more. As a man, if he couldn't even fulfil such a basic wish from his wife, he would be a failure. As a husband—and as a father—that simply could not be allowed.
So, he stepped forward once more.
"Hmm?"
The little Rin—or rather, the goddess Ishtar—glanced over with a displeased expression. Her voice was drawn out deliberately, and her wine-red eyes were tinged with irritation.
It was… adorable.
But also terrifying.
Facing that look, Tokiomi knew—he couldn't keep going like this. He stepped forward. But not fully.
Thunk.
That was the sound of his knee hitting the hardwood floor. He had knelt. Just one knee, in the noble tradition of greeting a sovereign—but it was still a kneel. With the reverence due a deity, Tokiomi lowered his head deeply before his daughter.
"Goddess Ishtar, I beg your pardon for my rudeness… but it is time for dinner. Even if you yourself do not require sustenance, I ask that you consider the body of the child you now inhabit." He delivered his plea with utmost sincerity.
But no reply came.
Slowly, cautiously, Tokiomi raised his head. And saw Rin—actual Rin—wearing a stunned, panicked expression.
Oh no…
His heart dropped. But he didn't dare say anything. What if this was just the goddess messing with him? Still… if Murphy's Law held true, the worst-case scenario was most likely the reality.
Sure enough, the little girl in front of him was no longer the goddess. It was just Rin—an elementary schooler—staring at her kneeling father in pure shock.
She hesitated for a long time before finally whispering, "F-Father… it's me. I'm Rin…"
"…"
Tokiomi closed his eyes.
He wanted to die.
Then, opening them again as if nothing had happened, he stood upright and said to her calmly, "Come. Let's eat. Your mother's food is getting cold."
"…Okay," Rin nodded meekly.
Neither of them dared bring up what had just occurred. With silent agreement, both pretended the kneeling incident had never happened.
If we don't mention it, it didn't happen. Father's dignity still stands!
If we don't mention it, it didn't happen. Father's authority remains intact!
They both repeated it like a mental spell.
Probably.
As they began their meal…
Boom!
A sudden thunderclap split the air, rumbling through the house like the heavens had cracked.
Tokiomi furrowed his brows.
But his noble upbringing wouldn't allow him to stop eating for something as mundane as thunder. He simply carried on.
Across the table, however, Rin had already hopped down from her chair and climbed up to the window to peer outside.
Such behavior… was far from elegant.
A proper noble should remain composed and unshaken, no matter the circumstance.
Sighing at his daughter's lack of refinement, Tokiomi called out with stern authority, "Rin!"
Normally, this would be the moment his daughter realized her mistake and apologized. But before he could say anything else, she turned back toward him—and spat venom.
"Shut up, dumbass!"
Seriously?! Again?! Tohsaka Tokiomi was incensed. But he didn't dare speak back. The goddess had returned, peering out the window once more. After a moment, she spoke in a thoughtful tone.
"Didn't you notice? That lightning was no ordinary phenomenon." Her expression became oddly intrigued.
"I didn't expect this. Looks like this Holy Grail War has more than one divine participant."
"Could someone else be as bored as me…?" she muttered, almost amused.
At least she had self-awareness.
"A second god?" Tokiomi echoed.
Upon hearing Ishtar's remark, Tokiomi immediately furrowed his brows. Though he still had some lingering doubts about her divine identity, if what she said was true, then their opponents in this Holy Grail War were far from ordinary.
"Can we win?" he asked, a hint of anxiety slipping into his voice.
"Of course we can!" came Ishtar's haughty reply. "Who do you think I am? I'm the most beloved daughter of the king of the Gods himself. Even manifesting as a Servant, I am leagues beyond those second- or third-rate gods."
"To think they can face off against me, the rightful mistress of the heavens?" She scoffed, voice swelling with pride. "They're not even worthy of licking my feet!"
The goddess of Venus radiated overwhelming confidence.
"Well… that's a relief," Tokiomi exhaled.
At this point, victory in the Holy Grail War had become inseparably tied to his daughter's life. Whether for the sake of his love as a father, his dreams as a magus, or the continuation of the Tohsaka bloodline—he could only pray that Ishtar was as powerful as she claimed.