Fate/Ultimate Antagonist

[86] Limiter

Seated before the vanity mirror, a strikingly charming young man, every inch of him unadorned, gazed upon his reflection in the polished surface.

His shoulder-length black locks cascaded smoothly down from behind his head, each strand exuding a deep, dark aura as though capable of absorbing one's gaze entirely.

The purple witch Medea, with a delicate blush upon her refined visage, stood behind the youthful king, her hands weaving through the ethereal currents of shadow-like magical energies, taming this mane of black locks.

No, to be precise... this was not simply hair.

In the six months since the construction of the Gates of Hell, Kratos had led dozens of expeditions personally, every battle seeing him at the forefront, transforming his once magnificent and divine physique into one drenched in the blood of devils.

Due to the loosening of his limiter, the rate at which Kratos shed his hair had gradually accelerated.

There was no other way... that shit system was truly unreliable, leaving only him to struggle.

[That's enough, do you know how hard I've worked?]

"If you worked any harder, I would have stormed Olympus long ago!"

[...Well, indeed.]

As his hair continued to fall this month, it had begun to affect his appearance...

Sometimes, even Caenis couldn't help but chuckle.

So, Kratos whipped her even harder, making her understand the duties of a wife.

During the recent rain of favors, Caenis would praise his appearance earnestly, claiming that even with a shaven head, Kratos was still the uncrowned King of Sparta.

"..."

So, without further ado, Kratos shaved off all of his hair, out of sight, out of mind.

The reason for this was simple... he had found a temporary method to maintain his appearance.

Because of the constant intense battles, wearing a wig wasn't convenient. If it accidentally came off during a fight, it would be embarrassing, to say the least.

Kratos had even tried various hair transplant methods, but unfortunately, under the constraints of the limiter, none of them worked... any substance connected to his scalp would fall off entirely the next day as if triggering an inevitable demise.

So, this shoulder-length, smooth, black mane was actually...

"...Such exquisite shadow magic, Miss Medea."

He remarked.

Kratos lightly caressed his hair.

Through the black strands, his fingertips felt nothing tangible, only a faintly chilling sensation, like plunging his hand into a pool of cool water.

Because... this luxurious mane was fundamentally a flow of shadow attribute magical energy, belonging to the category of illusionary magic.

How nostalgic...

Shadow magic, this was the type of magic Kratos was most familiar with, the type Alvin had mastered.

Unfortunately, in this life, the attribute of magic released by Kratos was fire, making it extremely difficult to perform shadow magic, even conflicting with each other.

But, where there's a will, there's a way... Kratos discovered Medea's talent.

The young witch carefully observed the flow of magical energy throughout Kratos's body, finally, with much practice, weaving together the shadow magic that had taken her a long time to master, crafting this flowing mane of black hair, fiercely maintaining his youthful and handsome appearance.