From a magus's perspective, Tokiomi Tohsaka's daughters were treasures of the magecraft world, as valuable as the legendary gemstone-grade Mystic Eyes.
The elder sister, Rin Tohsaka, bore the rare composite attribute of all five elements combined. With her exceptional magic circuits and talent, her future was limitless. The younger sister, Sakura Tohsaka, was no less extraordinary, possessing the even rarer Imaginary Numbers attribute. In terms of sheer mystery and uniqueness, Sakura might even surpass her sister.
In any era, in any region, these two magical aptitudes would stand out as dazzling and attention-grabbing. Calling them miracles wouldn't be an overstatement. Tokiomi knew this well and took great pride in it.
Yet, beneath the overwhelming joy of having such exceptional offspring, Tokiomi harbored an indescribable sorrow and frustration. If he had only one daughter, whether Rin or Sakura, he'd rejoice without reservation. But he had two prodigies.
Their potent magical constitutions and inherent mystery would inevitably attract more mystery and abnormality draws abnormality. Though the sisters were still young, Tokiomi could already foresee that their futures would be anything but peaceful. Under the influence of their extraordinary gifts, even if he wanted one to live a quiet life, it would be a pipe dream.
This dilemma had weighed on his mind since Rin and Sakura were born.
Alex, fully aware of Tokiomi's situation and struggles, chose this moment to step in and address it directly.
"Head of the Tohsaka family, as a magus seasoned in the ways of magecraft, you must understand the predicament your daughters face," Alex said, tapping the table lightly with his finger as he met Tokiomi's gaze.
"It's a basic rule of the mystical world: mystery attracts mystery, abnormality begets abnormality. That's why we magi often encounter things ordinary people can't imagine. And your daughters will be no exception."
"If their magical nature were weak, we could suppress it with magical tools or seals to keep it dormant. But your daughters are far beyond that. A composite of all five elements and an Imaginary Numbers attribute—these are among the most exceptional mysteries in the modern mystical world. Few magi in the entire world could match their constitutions. Ordinary seals or tools could never fully suppress them."
As he spoke, Alex studied Tokiomi's silent face before continuing. "So, they must step into the world of magecraft. But the Tohsaka family has only one magic crest, one legacy to pass down. That solves the issue for one, but the other will be left to live as an ordinary person. Yet her constitution will keep drawing incomprehensible oddities, leading her to an inevitable fate."
"I'm sure this troubles you greatly. The Clock Tower, with its focus on theory, might not help. Perhaps the Wandering Sea or Atlas Institute could address this, but those aren't good options for you. The deranged, old-fashioned magi and alchemists there would see two miraculous constitutions and stop at nothing to claim them for research."
Alex avoided delving into the Clock Tower's specifics. As a frequent visitor who published papers and attended lectures in London every few months, Tokiomi knew its nature well. The old coots there would either seal the sisters in formalin under the guise of preserving mystery or treat them as prime breeding stock for superior magical bloodlines once they matured. Neither outcome was acceptable to Tokiomi, which was why he'd kept his daughters' talents hidden from the Clock Tower.
He wasn't sure about the Wandering Sea or Atlas Institute, but their reputations were no better. Falling into their hands would likely mean becoming experimental material for madmen, exploited to the fullest—as Alex predicted.
In the original timeline, these very reasons left Tokiomi with no options. Desperate and cornered, he turned to another magecraft family, pinning his hopes on the Matou, a clan facing extinction due to an unworthy heir. It seemed like the perfect solution for Sakura's plight.
Alex could only say Tokiomi's logic was right. With the Mage's Association untrustworthy, sending a daughter to another magecraft family as a stepping stone into the mystical world made sense.
But Tokiomi's mistake was his poor judgment. He failed to see the Matou's true nature and hastily handed Sakura over, believing he'd found her a safe haven. Instead, it became a nightmare that haunted her life.
Though Tokiomi meant well, in Alex's eyes, he was still an unfit father. Yes, the Tohsaka crest could only go to one, and Sakura's constitution barred her from a normal life. But hadn't he ever considered training her from scratch? Pass the crest to Rin, then guide Sakura personally, teaching her as a first-generation magus to stand on her own?
Hadn't he thought of it?
Of course he had—even Alex, an outsider, could see it. But Tokiomi rejected the idea, unwilling to accept it.
Why? Because deep down, he couldn't let go of Sakura's extraordinary talent.
Starting as a first-generation magus was grueling and uncertain. Even with Sakura's gifts, success wasn't guaranteed. For magi, accumulation and inheritance were key, but pioneering was the hardest part—like a scientific breakthrough, the leap from 0 to 1 dwarfed the step from 1 to 2.
If Sakura began as a first-generation magus, no matter how brilliant, she might waste her potential, never mastering grand magecraft or making strides toward the Root. To Tokiomi, her talent, her inheritance of his blood was more precious than her happiness.
He loved his daughters, no doubt, but he valued magecraft more.
That was why Alex disliked him. Compared to other magi, Tokiomi seemed almost normal, but only just. Magi were warped by nature, and in that sense, Alex and his junior were the true oddities. Even his sharp-tongued teacher seemed nobler by comparison.
Still, Alex seized on Tokiomi's obsession with magecraft lineage. If Tokiomi prioritized family over magecraft, this would've been trickier. But everything was unfolding as planned.
A genuine smile spread across Tokiomi's face.
Alex met his gaze and smiled back. He knew this meant the deal was nearly sealed. 'Time to hit the final hammer.'
"Head of the Tohsaka family, you're aware of the Crowley family's current state, I assume?" Alex asked.
"Of course. The Crowley family is one of the prominent noble houses in the Clock Tower," Tokiomi replied, nodding as he shared what he knew.
"A lineage of six generations, renowned in alchemy, and one of the few families outside the Atlas Institute with its own alchemical tradition. They own a spiritual vein in southern London's outskirts and a seminar room in the Clock Tower, a true noble magecraft lineage."
As a regular at the Clock Tower, Tokiomi was well-versed in its noble factions, including the modestly famous Crowley family. Though only six generations deep, one more than the Tohsaka they weren't to be underestimated. Born during the Renaissance, they'd seized the era's opportunities, blending mysticism with chemistry in an age of scientific awakening. By the second generation, they'd crafted a rudimentary alchemical system as their family magecraft, an astonishing feat.
Leveraging this, the Crowleys rose swiftly in the magecraft world, earning a place among the Clock Tower's elitist, tradition-obsessed nobles after sharing knowledge and heritage. Many alchemical materials used there today came from them, a testament to their influence.
Though the family had waned since the previous head's sudden death, a lean camel was still larger than a horse. Tokiomi wouldn't underestimate them.
Not long ago, Matou Zouken, head of the Matou family, one of the Holy Grail War's three founding families, had visited, hinting at adopting one of his daughters. The Matou were known for their water-based command magecraft, even contributing the Command Spell system to the Grail War. But they paled beside the Clock Tower nobility. Sakura's Imaginary Numbers aligned better with the Crowleys' alchemy, offering broader prospects.
'Adopting her out to the Crowley family seemed a solid choice.'
Alex Known at the Clock Tower and apprenticed to a Lord. In the magus world, mentorships weren't ironclad. With the family intact, he'd be fine, but now? Tokiomi doubted a Lord would ignore the Crowley alchemy legacy. Likely, they were sheltering Alex while subtly encroaching on his inheritance. Perhaps that urgency drove him to seek a gifted heir, to break this deadlock through the next generation.
And who better than his daughter?
"I'm flattered you know so much about my family, Head of the Tohsaka family," Alex said with a polite chuckle before sharing his pitch. "With the untimely deaths of the previous heads, I, bearing Crowley blood, had to step up and shoulder the family's burden."
"To be honest, my talent is decent, but I'm hopeless at managing a family or its affairs. You far outshine me there."
He played up his woes while subtly flattering Tokiomi.
"Not at all. Compared to achievements in magecraft, mundane management is trivial," Tokiomi replied modestly.
"Due to some setbacks, the family's decline is obvious in my generation. That's why I came to you, hoping to adopt one of your daughters. I can hold things together for now, but restoring our peak is uncertain. Rather than leave it to an unknown heir, I want the Crowley crest to pass to a true genius, one who can carry our name toward the Root."
His tone was earnest, his eyes resolute. He'd laid out every line he'd prepared. Now, it was up to Tokiomi.
If the crumbling Matou could adopt Sakura in the original timeline, his stronger hand was more than enough.
Before coming, Alex was certain of success. He knew Tokiomi's rationality and fixation too well.
To a magus, what were children? Heirs of their blood, vessels to carry the family's mission toward the Root. What was happiness? Seeing those heirs tread the path of magecraft, advancing toward truth, even if they one day clashed and killed each other. That, too, was happiness.
Tokiomi craved this happiness for himself and wanted his daughters to taste it, excelling in their own magical domains. As a father, he didn't seek stability for them but a stage to unleash their talents.
Alex couldn't fully grasp this warped mindset, but he'd seen it too often at the Clock Tower to be surprised. It was standard for magecraft families, even the Crowleys. He had no intention of playing the hero to fix Tokiomi's views. For someone this far gone, no cure worked. Better to use it to his advantage.
"What's your decision, Head of the Tohsaka family?" Alex asked, tapping the table lightly.
With the groundwork laid and his sincerity clear, Tokiomi had no reason to refuse.
"It's a tempting proposal, Mr. Crowley. You've been so generous, and as Sakura's father, I'm genuinely pleased for her," Tokiomi said. "But for safety's sake, I'll need you to sign a [Self-Imposed Magical Contract] under the Crowley family name, swearing to make Sakura your heir and pass her the crest and family assets. In return, I'll sign one too, severing all ties between the Tohsaka family and Sakura. I won't contact her or use our blood connection to harm the Crowley family. How does that sound?"
After careful thought, Tokiomi laid out his terms. He wasn't foolish enough to trust blindly on something this big.
A magical contract, akin to a pact, was written on a scroll and signed by both parties, enforcing its terms. Tokiomi's 'Self-Imposed Magical Contract' was stricter, a curse-like vow magi used for unbreakable agreements, ensuring compliance with no escape.
If Alex signed this, it'd prove his commitment, and Tokiomi would have no objections.
"Of course, that's perfectly reasonable," Alex replied with a calm smile, agreeing readily.
Tokiomi exhaled in relief. Though a trace of melancholy lingered, it was soon overtaken by satisfaction. He smiled warmly. "I'm glad you understand."
"Naturally. Something this important can't be taken lightly," Alex said with a nod.
Seeing Tokiomi finally at ease, Alex felt the same. His first goal in Japan was now complete.