5,046To The Clocktower Once More
"Look! Look, everyone! I am a Magical Girl!"
Illya emerged from her temporary dressing room, which was really just her bedroom but repurposed, with all the flair of a catwalk diva, throwing one arm into the air and the other to the side as she strolled into the living room.
Her silver-and-red hair descended down her shoulders in waves, her red-and-golden eyes glittered in excitement, and there was a slight flush on her face as she waited in anticipation for the praise that was sure to come her way.
"Wonderful!" Sakura was the first to react, having been the one who'd helped Illya the most with collecting the materials and putting the outfit together. She happily clapped her hands in applause, beaming at Illya's success. "You look just like the real thing!"
"I don't just look like the real thing!" Illya corrected her, before striking an action pose, a tried-and-true one, in which she bent her legs and held her wand in front of her like a sword. "I am the real thing! Evildoers beware!"
"You'll have them running with their tails between their legs." Shirou laughed, fully meaning it too, and he applauded alongside Sakura.
Admittedly, she did not look particularly intimidating, considering she was still the smallest person in the household and looked about as old as Sakura. On top of that, her outfit wasn't exactly frightening either, consisting of a white, frilly skirt with a bloodred rim, a tight and rather revealing pink corset, pink, shoulder-length gloves, white gauntlets, pink thigh-highs, cute, pink ankle boots, a golden tiara, a pink cape, and a wand with a star on top.
It was beautiful, and clearly made with love, but if she were to appear at the scene of a crime like that, Shirou imagined the criminals would mostly laugh at her.
But that was before they realised that she was easily as strong as ten men, pretty much bulletproof, and extremely vicious in combat. Furthermore, her clothes were more durable than steel armour or a Kevlar vest, she could use various forms of Magecraft to support herself in battle, and her wand was made of stainless steel, perfectly fit for cracking skulls.
She was a right menace, and Shirou had no doubt that if he were to unleash her, she would be more feared than Rakurai in weeks at most.
Not that he was going to. Even if she managed to convince him to pick up the mantle of the dreaded vigilante again, which he absolutely wasn't planning to, he would not let her out of his sight for even a moment.
Sakura had warned him that Illya was ruthless against those she hated, and judging by his own observations, she was entirely right. If they went out, he had to keep tabs on her, or she would get herself a body count in short order.
"You don't look half bad." Rin noted, an expression of clear shock on her face. "I thought I'd be able to laugh at you, but you actually managed to put together something decent. Colour me surprised."
"Bleh." Illya stuck out her tongue at Rin in response.
"Very mature. I'd tell you to be less childish, but I suppose that ship has long since sailed if you want to look like one of those cartoon characters-"
"Rin." Shirou gave her a small glare, signalling her to stop winding Illya up for no reason. "Please, no unnecessary negativity right now. If you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all."
"You misunderstand me. I am trying to say something nice here." Rin defended herself. "She doesn't look bad, okay? I opened with that. She's the one who-"
"She looks good." Shirou interrupted her sternly. "Illya made a very good costume and deserves to be recognised for it. How would you feel if you worked very hard on something and I told you afterwards that it doesn't look half as bad as I expected it to?"
"…" The mere idea of him doing such a thing made Rin frown deeply, her fists balling as if to punch that hypothetical Shirou in the face, and the redhead was glad to see she realised what he meant. "You may have a point. Fine, it's a beautiful costume, though I maintain it is a little childish."
"I did try to make it more mature though." Illya puffed out her chest so as to accentuate the revealing corset, which left considerable parts of her torso exposed. "The Magical Girls from television are nowhere near as sexy as me."
Indeed they weren't, and Shirou was not sure how to feel about that.
On one hand, the outfit was a fair bit more daring than it needed to be, certainly more daring than was appropriate in the eyes of the average Japanese person, prudish as they were. On the other, Illya was under no obligation whatsoever to conform to Japanese societal norms, and her outfit wasn't nearly daring enough to actually cross the line into public indecency.
Furthermore, with what he and his girls often got up to, he'd be a hypocrite to scold Illya for wearing something bold, and to top it all off, she was in her twenties, which was more than old enough to make her own choices. He imagined his input on matters of her body was neither needed nor wanted.
"Alright, alright. It's not childish at all." Rin capitulated, holding up her hands. "It's a nice outfit, with a good colour scheme. I actually rather like it."
"Hehe, Sakura and I thought you would. You can't go wrong with pink." Illya beamed, having completely forgiven Rin for the earlier lukewarm reception, before she turned towards the only member of the household who hadn't said anything so far. "Ayako, what do you think?"
"What do I think?" The brunette repeated, looking Illya over with a critical eye, before she grinned widely. "I think you outdid yourself on this one. It turned out really well, didn't it?"
"It did!" Illya eagerly lapped up the praise, nearly bouncing from sheer delight. "I couldn't have done it without you, Ayako!"
"I only helped with a few details. It was nothing worth mentioning." Ayako waved away the compliments, but Illya wouldn't have it.
"I couldn't have done it without you." She repeated, balling her hand into a fist and placing it on her heart. "If you want me to make an outfit for you too, I'll do it! For you and Sakura."
"Ah, that's really kind of you, but I don't want to be a Magical Girl." Ayako's enthusiasm dimmed quickly at the very notion. She'd never been interested in those series, never watched a single second even, nor did she have any interest in dressing like one of their protagonists. "I mean, you do you, but I'm not interested myself. I… uh, I don't think it would suit me very well."
"I think it would, but I understand. If you don't like the series, you shouldn't wear the outfit." Illya accepted the refusal easily enough, but her smile remained as wide and enthusiastic as ever. "There's plenty of other outfits to choose from though. You don't have to be a Magical Girl. I can make something else."
"Something else?" Ayako blinked in slight confusion, but she soon relaxed slightly, showing she was more open to that offer than the one involving Magical Girls. "Such as?"
"It can be anything you want. I'm really getting the hang of making all kinds of costumes." Illya spoke confidently, before she folded her hands together behind her back and leaned forward slightly, in a position that really brought out her cuteness. "If you can't think of anything though, I'd be more than happy to share some of my own ideas with you. I have lots of inspiration."
With her smile, adorable pose, and slightly daring outfit, Illya looked like a right angel, pure and only slightly devious, but Ayako had known her longer than today, and thus hesitated to outright accept.
"Can I maintain the right to refuse any outfit I do not like?"
"Of course!"
"Then, I suppose I accept your offer." Ayako still didn't look too sure, but for now, she tentatively agreed.
The cause for her concern wasn't that she was worried Illya would make something ridiculous or something of bad quality, the girl had too much pride for that, but if left to her own devices, she might make something excessively… indecent.
The number of hentai-images the little sprite had looked at while creating her latest outfits was disturbingly high after all.
"What about you, Sakura?" Illya then turned to her other potential victi- that is, client, who also didn't look too sure about the offer.
"Do I get the same conditions as Ayako?"
"Naturally."
"Then, uhm, I accept your generous offer as well. Please make something beautiful for us."
"Deal!"
They had reached an agreement, and they all shook on it.
"Onii-chan!" Then Illya turned to Shirou, and her sweet smile, coupled with her use of the Japanese term of endearment, already hinted strongly at what she wanted to discuss. "Do you perhaps want to go out to fight crime tonight?"
"…" Shirou said nothing for a while, holding Illya's gaze with a decidedly unimpressed look. Only when she started sweating slightly from the pressure did he speak up again. "Illya, do we need to have another discussion about the dangers of vigilantism?"
"…N-No." Illya wanted to look down, she obviously did, but he didn't allow her to break eye-contact with him yet.
"No? So you remember what I told you?"
"Beating up criminals is bad, because it will escalate violence and undermine the people's faith in the rule of law."
"And why is it bad to undermine people's faith in the rule of law?"
"Because society will fracture and collapse if people do not trust the law anymore. It will cause lots of suffering and destruction, much more than we can prevent by beating up a few criminals."
"Indeed." Shirou was pleased to see she did remember his lessons. "So knowing that, do you think it is a good idea for us to go out and play vigilante?"
"…No." It was hard for her to admit, but Illya wasn't so stubborn that she'd refuse to see sense. "B-But I don't see the problem with catching a few criminals just once, just tonight."
"Impossible. If I am seen in my disguise, all the rumours and chaos will start all over again." Shirou refused sternly, his tone making it clear this was not up for debate. "I will not have such a mess on my hands again. Once was more than enough."
Illya wilted at his harsh words, something that pained him to see, but he needed to be clear on this. He had learned his lesson through pain and failure, witnessing the mayhem that Rakurai had wrought, and he didn't want that for his little sister. She already had suffered enough. She didn't need innocent blood on her hands on top of that.
"What Shirou says is true." Ever the stickler for rules, Rin spoke out in his support. She hadn't been too impressed when she'd learned that Shirou was Rakurai, mainly because she too knew very well what would happen when rules were no longer obeyed, by bad guys or good guys. The Fourth Holy Grail War had taught her that very well. "You might catch a few villains, but the price we will all have to pay for such extrajudicial actions is too high."
"A very sound argument, Rin." Ayako nodded, as if to agree with her, but the apologetic look she then gave Shirou and Rin suggested she was about to do something else entirely. "But I'm with Illya on this one."
"I expected as much." Shirou was unable to suppress a wry smile when they ended up divided along the exact lines he'd expected. Rin was on his side, while Ayako took Illya's. "You are an action-type of girl after all."
"You got that right. There's still a lot of evil stuff happening out there, even here in Fuyuki, and I don't think it is right to ignore it. I mean, I won't force anyone to take action if they don't want to, but I also don't think it is right to stop Illya if she wants to do good." The brunette argued, while Illya nodded along fervently. "I say that you do go out tonight to fight crime, and if that has any adverse effects on the rule of law, deal with those effects when they crop up. Just like you did last time."
"How wonderfully straightforward." Rin smirked. "Beat up the villains, and then beat up the consequences too. Nice and simple."
"Nice and simple is who I am, Rin."
"Clearly." The two girls were in complete agreement about that at least, even if it was the only thing in this discussion they agreed on. "I appreciate your direct nature, I truly do, it is why I am now happier than I have ever been, but vigilantism is not something you can afford to take lightly. It has serious downsides, Ayako."
"Yes, I heard you the first time. I just don't agree that you shouldn't do something virtuous merely because of its possible downsides. If that was how we all thought, we'd never achieve anything."
"Beating people up in the middle of the night is hardly virtuous though." Rin pointed out.
"It is if you're helping innocent people." Ayako countered swiftly. "In my understanding, citizens are allowed to use force to detain suspects if they see someone breaking the law. Vigilantes merely are a bit more proactive than regular citizens."
"The fact that they proactively seek out lawbreakers to punish and detain them is exactly what makes vigilantism illegal."
"I'm not saying it isn't illegal. I am only saying it is virtuous."
"Nonsense. You were trying to argue that it was legal."
"You seem to be misremembering things there, Rin."
The discussion had rapidly devolved into an argument, as both parties started talking louder and louder while the actual content of their arguments only got worse.
It was nothing out of the ordinary though. In fact, it was hardly unusual at all for the inhabitants of the Emiya-estate to argue between themselves. Their polyamorous relationship, as wonderful as it was, had put four very stubborn people together, where they could clash over their beliefs and their methods of problem-solving to their heart's content. Arguments could erupt almost spontaneously and could get quite heated, made worse by the fact that none of them were the type to give in easily.
In the blink of an eye, three factions had formed. Shirou and Rin were opposed to the idea of Rakurai returning, Illya and Ayako were in favour, and Sakura quickly excused herself, having no strong opinion on the matter and no desire to get pulled into the argument.
Which was fair enough. It was an unspoken rule in the house not to draw people into discussions if they didn't want to. That way lay only misery.
So really, it was two factions who were arguing, without making much progress at all on either side. The matter of Rakurai truly was a difficult one, and both sides had a point, which meant swaying the other side was nearly impossible.
Until Ayako said something she regretted right away.
"Think of all the people you can save." She addressed Shirou directly with that remark. "The people who are being robbed, beaten up, and perhaps murdered right now. Don't they need you?"
"That is a low blow!" Rin snapped, and her amused annoyance, born from the fact that she actually liked arguing with Ayako, turned into actual anger in a snap. "Those people are not Shirou's responsibility! Don't try to make them so for your own benefit!"
"Rin is right." Illya turned to her ally in disapproval as well, not liking the implied meaning of her line of reasoning either. "Don't make it Shirou's fault when people are hurt."
They had all worked very hard to help Shirou with his survivor's guilt, to help him overcome the trauma of being utterly powerless in the Great Fire and mend the resulting obsession with saving people, and none of them were happy with Ayako's thoughtless remark.
Especially not Rin, who had worked the hardest of them all, even before she'd become his girlfriend and fiancée.
"R-Right." To her credit, the brunette had already regretted her statement before it had fully left her mouth, wincing at her own callousness. She accepted the recriminations, knowing perfectly well that she'd said something terrible in the heat of the moment, and she hurried to make amends. "Don't listen to what I just said, Shirou. I didn't mean a word of it!"
"I know." There was a time when her words would have cut deep, back when he was lost and unsure of his place in the world, but now, Shirou could just shrug them off. "Don't worry about it, Ayako. I know you didn't mean it."
After many happy years, and with wonderful friends and family-members, not to mention a certain hammer that had carried with it the essence of a true hero, the redhead had managed to take the edge off his trauma.
He wasn't healed, and likely never would be. He still wanted to be a hero with every fibre of his being, a desire that would never go away. However, he could at least be rational about it now, and accept that saving absolutely everyone was an impossible task.
It was still a goal worth fighting for, one that he should strive for as much as he could, that hadn't changed, but not to the point where he felt guilty about sitting in his living room with his family instead of being out there fighting crime.
There had to be balance in his life, and Shirou had little issue anymore with maintaining that balance.
It was quite the change of heart, a very positive one, and a real feather in Rin's cap, especially since she hadn't even been trained to be a therapist or an expert on mental health or anything like that. It went to show just how hard she'd worked on easing his pain.
Shirou had to admit however that he did feel guilty about putting so much pressure on her. So much so in fact that he'd honestly thought about visiting an actual therapist instead, coming quite close even to making an appointment with one, if only to give Rin a break. In the end though, he hadn't gone through with it, realising it would be futile.
In order for therapy to be effective, it required that you were completely honest with your therapist, that you acknowledged and addressed every difficulty in your life, and safe to say, that was never going to happen with him. He had too many secrets he just couldn't share.
As such, most of the hard work had ended up on Rin's plate after all. He really owed a lot to her, more than even she realised, and though he hadn't said it out loud, he planned to return the favour a thousand times over.
She wanted to marry him, and not only was he going to do exactly that, he was also going to be the best husband imaginable for the rest of their natural lives. Nothing less would do.
That was not to say though that Sakura and Ayako hadn't also worked very hard for his sake, and even Illya had helped in her own way. Thanks to his girls, he felt better than ever before in his life, and when he saw them looking worried after Ayako's clumsy remark, he immediately gave them a wide smile, one that seemed to ease their concern at least a bit.
"Perhaps we can continue this discussion another time." Recognising that no one was in the mood to argue further about Rakurai, Rin suggested shelving the matter for now, looking at Ayako and Illya for their agreement. "We will talk about it again, I promise, but not now."
"That's fine." Illya agreed immediately. "I'll just… ehm, make more costumes, f-for everyone!"
"…" Ayako didn't respond verbally to Rin's suggestion, instead rising up from her seat to make her way over to Shirou, before she lowered herself into his lap and pulled him into a big hug.
Naturally, he hugged her back, trying to make it clear that there were no bad feelings between them whatsoever.
The brunette was a physical girl, one who communicated better with actions than with words, so the hug managed to do what his verbal assurances couldn't. They made her feel a bit better. He could feel how she relaxed in his arms, which, indeed, was the best feeling in the world.
Then it got better, as Rin hugged him from behind, placing her chin on his shoulder and closing her eyes in contentment.
It was no surprise at all that Illya excused herself at this point. Little sisters didn't like seeing their older brothers get mushy with girls, that was pretty much a universal truth.
It was a very tender moment, one that reinforced their bonds after a heated argument, and Shirou made sure not to say a word or make a sound, knowing that it would only disturb the loving atmosphere.
They would indeed have to continue the discussion about Rakurai at some point, not just because Illya wouldn't drop it, but also because Shirou had actually been convinced by Ayako's words, but that was something for another time.
Right now, it was enough that they were together like this.
"N-Now then, Waver, w-why did you drag me down h-here?"
Goredolf Musik, heir of the Musik-family, was no hero or brave warrior. He didn't have the skill or the courage to take on monsters or villains, and for the heir of a Magus-family, he folded surprisingly easily under pressure, especially when that pressure was of the violent kind.
Furthermore, he wasn't too bright either. He wasn't dumb or anything, he was actually of above-average intelligence, but he wasn't brilliant, like many other lords and heirs, and he was nowhere close to being a genius like Waver.
Which made it a total mystery to him as to why Waver had dragged him along to the Carillon-Observatory, the Clocktower's oldest Classroom, to study the fallout of the recent attack of the Phantasmal Beasts there.
The attack had been predicted a while before, and as a result, the Carillon-Observatory had prepared itself enough to stop the creatures and drive them back. Now, lady Barthomeloi had dispatched Waver to the scene, to see if anything new could be learned which might help their efforts in preventing or mitigating any further assaults, there or somewhere else.
"D-Don't get me wrong. It is v-very interesting, f-fascinating even, t-to see t-these Phantasmal Beasts for myself." Even if Goredolf was no Zoologist, historian or expert on folklore, any Magus, and even most mundane people, would jump at the chance to study the corpses of Ancient Magical Beasts. There was even an actual Ogre, for crying out loud. "B-But that doesn't explain why I had to come all the way down here."
"You are here because I wanted to bring an independent observer to the scene." Waver replied off-handedly, more focused on the Ogre than on Goredolf. "I am the one who devised our current working-theories on the re-emergence of Phantasmal Beasts after all. If I were to go here with only my apprentices and allies accompanying me, and I told the Aristocratic Faction afterwards that everything I found was in accordance with my theories, there would be reasonable cause for doubt. Some might argue, perhaps even with due cause, that I am twisting the evidence in my favour. As such, I need to be accompanied by someone objective, someone whose word can be trusted by all families in the faction."
"I am not your ally?" It was a strange thing to focus on, but that was what jumped out the most to Goredolf, who honestly considered Waver a friend or sorts.
Well, maybe not a friend, but certainly a friendly acquaintance.
"Of course you are." Waver huffed, as if the mere question was inane, which actually eased Goredolf's worries. "But you are not my apprentice, nor my wife-to-be, nor my employee. I dare say that makes you more objective than anyone else I've taken along today."
Grey, Waver's first apprentice, looked up from the corpse of a deer-like monster for a moment, before she looked back when she was certain her teacher had no need of her.
Marianne, Waver's fiancée, smiled apologetically at Goredolf, who could only clear his throat in response as he tried to hide his blush, his weakness for beautiful women almost tripping him up.
Bazett, Waver's bodyguard and most trusted employee, did not interrupt her vigil though, keeping a watchful eye on the tunnels alongside the other Enforcers.
Svin and Flat, Waver's loyal shadows, continued squabbling as they helped the Magi of the Carillon-Observatory to drag away the corpses and throw them onto a large pile.
"I see what you mean." Goredolf nodded in understanding, now also seeing why Waver had taken him along. He was well aware of the distrust that the families of the Aristocratic Faction felt for each other, a distrust that was inherent to any Magus and was just as present in the Democratic Faction and the Neutral Faction by the way, so it was only logical that Waver was taking steps to mitigate that distrust. "I don't know if my word will help you, with my family being rather unimportant and all, but I will do my best of course."
"Don't sell yourself short, my friend. Your family might be relatively young compared to the others, but you are known to be honourable and truthful. The other families will believe what you say."
Waver was laying it on a little thick there, with success, as Goredolf stood up a little straighter in pride, but it was also true. Goredolf had never given anyone a reason to doubt his honesty. In fact, he had a reputation for being painfully honest. A reputation that Waver hoped to benefit from at the next meeting.
Furthermore, Goredolf's appearance worked to his advantage here. Though he was actually quite young, only twenty-two years of age, he already looked quite mature and imposing, with his powerful moustache, his surprisingly chiselled jawline, and his girth.
Yes, some might call him fat, but Goredolf made that work for him.
Too bad though that his imposing air only lasted until he opened his mouth.
"But what about further attacks?" The young Musik-heir asked nervously, bringing up yet another issue as he practically placed Waver between the tunnels and himself. "Is it likely there will be further attacks?"
Waver opened his mouth to reply, but then he was cut off by someone else.
"Not particularly likely. My equipment shows no changes in the ambient Magical Energy. Certainly nothing like when they attacked."
"Lord Carillon." Waver greeted the newcomer, bowing slightly in respect to their host, the director and leader of the Carillon-Observatory.
Millieune Carillon's features were hidden underneath their heavy cloak as always, but they didn't let the billowing piece of cloth get in their way. They had just finished collecting the Goblin-corpses with the help of Svin and Flat, and it appeared they had some time to spare to talk with Waver and Goredolf now.
"My lord!" Goredolf bowed as deeply as his belly would allow. "Thank you for your hospitality! I vow that I shall not even glimpse at your secrets here! On the honour of the Musik-family, your crafts are safe with us!"
"Don't concern yourself with such matters, lord Goredolf. There is nothing here that can be stolen anyway." Carillon replied brusquely, their tone decidedly not amused, though that had more to do with the situation at large than with Goredolf specifically. "I'd rather you told me what you have found so far. Lord El-Melloi?"
"It's pretty much what we expected. These are indeed Phantasmal Beasts-"
If the men could have looked under the cloak's hood, they would probably have seen Carillon roll their eyes.
"-And when we compare the Goblins here against the Goblins that have been fought and killed over the past decade in the deep forests of Eastern Europe, we can observe a marked increase in power and ability."
"That is concerning, though indeed not unexpected." Carillon had never hunted Phantasmal Beasts themselves, until the attack on their classroom, but the increase in power was only logical when one took into account that the concentration of Magical Energy in the air was rising worldwide. "The return of Mystery certainly is much less convenient than most Magi hoped for."
"Q-Quite. Y-You are correct of course." Goredolf hurried to agree, his moustache drooping slightly. He'd been one of the enthusiastic people at first, believing that the return of Mystery was a boon and a blessing, but like all the others, he'd soon been forced to revise his opinion, when he realised just how dangerous Phantasmal Beings were going to be. "I suppose I understand now why people who lived during the tail end of the Age of the Gods were so eager for the Age of Man to truly begin. I can't even imagine having to live your life with monsters everywhere you turn."
"The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence." Carillon said philosophically, folding their gloved hands together. "It is man's nature to never be content with what they have. They will always strive for more, and it is that ambition that will be our downfall."
"It is ambition that has brought us this far as a species, lord Carillon. I see no reason to abandon it now." Waver lightly chided his fellow lord, who was being rather too gloomy for his tastes. "One might even argue that all we Magi have is ambition. Do you not have dreams yourself?"
"This is not the time for a philosophical debate, lord El-Melloi." Carillon rebuffed the question, not out of an unwillingness to argue and discuss, but because they had other matters to attend to. "If you wish, we may clash at another time. Right now, we must not digress-"
'_RRRRRRUUUUUUUMMMMMMOOOOHH'
A sudden sound, like a low, thrumming rumble, interrupted their conversation, interrupted all conversations in the classroom, as the guests turned towards the source in alarm.
It was like the hum of a massive machine or perhaps a giant reptile, something that pierced straight to the bones and hinted at the presence of something absolutely immense. A sound that spelled impending doom, overpowering all other sounds in range, and worst of all, came from one of the tunnels leading into the earth.
The very tunnels the Phantasmal Beasts had come from.
"An attack!" Goredolf screamed, leaping behind Carillon, judging them to be a better warrior than Waver and thus safer to hide behind. "We're all going to die!"
"Calm yourself, lord Goredolf!" Carillon barked, their irritation clearly audible in their voice even with their expression hidden. "This is no attack! This just happens at regular intervals. It is nothing to be concerned about."
"Nothing to be concerned about?" Waver gave the other lord an incredulous look, almost unable to believe his ears. "Nothing to be concerned about?! Something in that tunnel is regularly making threatening noises, and you consider it nothing to be concerned about?!"
"…Nothing of immediate concern." Carillon adjusted their statement slightly, sounding almost sheepish, before they composed themselves again. "It is, as far as we have been able to determine, not a sign of an impending attack."
"A-Are you sure?" Goredolf nearly squeaked, clearly very concerned about another wave of Phantasmal Beings out for blood potentially emerging from the caves.
"I am."
"W-Waver?" Goredolf turned towards the other lord present for a second opinion, clearly hoping he'd agree with Carillon's assessment.
"…Though I must admit that I am worried about that mysterious sound, I concur with lord Carillon. I highly doubt the Phantasmal Beats will attack again so soon after suffering a major defeat." Waver had to think for a moment, weighing all potential angles and considering every possibility he could come up with, before finally arriving at his conclusion. "I cannot be certain of course, but if my theories are correct, we will be safe here for the time being."
"Care to explain your theories?" Carillon's request was more of an order, and rather brusque besides, but under the circumstances, Waver completely understood that they were eager for more details.
"I have many, but they ultimately all come down to the same thing. Logistics."
"Logistics?" The hooded head was cocked slightly to the side. "Phantasmal Beasts do not care about such things."
"Not in the way that we do, yes, but they remain corporal creatures with limits on their physical capabilities, so we can assume at least some level of similarity. They still have to walk to reach their destination, they have a limited number of soldiers available, and they appear to have a rather strict hierarchy. Now that they have lost most of their forces and their leader-."
As one, the men turned towards the remains of the Ogre, which were now being dissected and readied for transport.
"-Any further attempts to assault this Classroom will only end up in failure. They simply do not have the manpower, or perhaps I should say, beastpower, to achieve victory. Not before and certainly not now. Likely, they are aware of that too. They will wait until stronger Phantasmal Beasts can safely rise from the deeper tunnels."
"S-Stronger Phantasmal Beasts?" Goredolf went white as a sheet at the mere notion, and the twitch in Carillon's body showed they weren't too eager to face such beings either.
"Yes, stronger Phantasmal Beasts." Waver wasn't here to set them at ease with white lies however, and instead explained his reasoning again. "Mystery becomes stronger the deeper into the earth one goes. As such, I expect that the deeper tunnels, the ones many metres below the ones that we can see here, are home to stronger beasts. For now, they cannot rise to the surface or to this Classroom, as the Mystery here is too weak for them to survive, but if it continues increasing at its current pace, we might see stronger Phantasmal Beasts emerge only weeks from now."
"W-What?!" Goredolf's legs shook wildly, forcing him to grab hold of Waver's arm. "B-But then we are doomed!"
"They will wipe us out." Carillon agreed grimly. "Perhaps not with the next attack, or the one after that, but if their power keeps growing, they will eventually overrun us."
Waver made to agree as well, before he realised that more negativity was not what they needed right now. They had purposefully kept their voices low, so as not to worry the others, but if Goredolf and Carillon kept looking so morose, morale would surely fall.
"I am certain that we can find a countermeasure before we reach that breaking point." He said instead, trying to look confident and reassuring, even though that was not in his nature. He must have succeeded better than he'd expected though, for Goredolf and Carillon nodded in agreement, a glimpse of courage returning to their stances. "We should not give up, especially not so early in the game. If we keep fighting, we have a chance of victory, however small."
"Well said, Waver!" Goredolf laughed bombastically, before holding up a finger in warning. "Let it be clear though that I am not going to fight myself! I am not a hero, nor am I a warrior or some kind of battle junky. I won't die uselessly in some kind of brave last stand. If the going gets tough, Gof gets going, in the other direction."
Goredolf displayed some of his painful honesty again, the sort that could make even a Magus laugh, and whether he'd intended to or not, it came exactly at the right time.
"That is perfectly alright, Goredolf." Waver hid his grin with his hand, pretending to have another puff from his cigar, and he noticed that Carillon stilled for a moment, undoubtedly stifling a laugh of their own. "The frontline is for warriors. You are better placed behind the lines, doing research and leading the operation."
"A-As long as we're clear on that." Goredolf nodded firmly, happy that his point had been made. "As leader, I should remain behind and keep a clear view of the situation. That is what Tulle always tells me."
"Indeed." Waver did not know who Tulle was supposed to be, but since it was hardly relevant, he let it go, instead turning back to their host. "Lord Carillon, I believe it is time to get back to work and save further discussions for the upcoming meeting. Is there anything else you wish to tell us before we continue with our separate tasks?"
"Perhaps there is one thing. It's about the tunnel from which the rumbling noise is coming."
"What about it?" Goredolf asked sharply, instantly on high alert again. "Y-You said the rumbling noise didn't mean anything!"
"It doesn't, as far as we know, but the tunnel has a peculiar smell, one I cannot make sense of."
"A smell?" Goredolf blinked in surprise, and Waver lifted an eyebrow too. "You mean, it stinks?"
"No, on the contrary actually. I'd say it smells of fresh air."
"A tunnel leading to the depth of the earth smelling of fresh air?" Goredolf's voice was full of appropriate scepticism, and he promptly marched over to said tunnel, apparently completely forgetting he was supposed to be frightened of the thing hiding within it. "Hm, let me have a whiff of that…"
His voice trailed off as he smelled the air himself, before he blinked in surprise.
"This is indeed surprisingly fresh." Waver remarked, having come over himself as well.
"This isn't just fresh!" Goredolf nearly scoffed, looking both pleasantly surprised and affronted, somehow. "This air is fresher than even the mountain air in Switzerland! It smells like a perfectly tranquil meadow, with flowers and mowed grass! If I could bottle this, I could sell it as high end perfume and air-freshener!"
"Do you think this tunnel might lead back to the surface?" Waver asked Carillon, rather concerned they might have to deal with another potential security risk.
The hooded lord's only response was a shrug however. They had no idea either.
"I'll discuss the matter with lady Barthomeloi." Waver promised, knowing that they couldn't ignore the fact that the Tomb of Albion might have another exit that was not under their control. That was a recipe for disaster.
"Please do. I will likely have to remain here for a while, to oversee the clean-up and the restoration of our defences." Carillon made an apologetic gesture. "I will need to hire more Enforcers and try to seal the tunnels as best as I can."
"Seal? You mean collapse them?" Goredolf asked, eyeing the roof of the tunnel. "Like, with explosives?"
"No. These tunnels cannot be destroyed with mundane devices. It will require a weapon of great Mystery, possibly a Noble Phantasm even, to do any damage. Instead, I will attempt to seal them with Bounded Fields. My nephew, Khamul, is an expert. I will call for him."
"Very good." Waver nodded in approval, well aware that Carillon was doing all they possibly could. "In the meantime, I will try to drum up more support for you. Is there anything you need in particular?"
"…A Sorcerer." The hooded lord replied after a moment, their tone very careful. "A being of greater Mystery than any Magus."
"You speak of Fujimaru."
"I do. We should coordinate our efforts here with him if we are to stand any chance of holding back the tide of Phantasmal Beasts." Normally, lord Carillon wouldn't even consider letting such a person into his Sancta Sanctorum, but these were desperate times, and desperate times made for desperate alliances. "Can I rely on you to contact him, lord El-Melloi?"
"You can. Within weeks at most, he will return to the Clocktower. Lady Barthomeloi and I will welcome him at once and inform him of the situation here in the Tomb of Albion. I have little doubt he'll be willing to help."
In fact, Waver was almost certain that Shirou was already working hard on ways to mitigate the disasters that the return of Mystery could bring about. He was a responsible person, and quite dutiful as far as Waver could determine. There was no way he could leave something like this alone.
"Then I thank you, lord El-Melloi. You have the gratitude of the Clocktower's First Classroom."
Waver accepted the gratitude and the implied favour gracefully, though not enthusiastically. Essentially, he was just the messenger here, bringing news of Carillon's plight to others. Hardly something that deserved a reward.
If anyone deserved to be rewarded, it were the people actually dealing with the disasters. The Enforcers protecting the Carillon-Observatory for instance, and the agents that were now patrolling the areas in Europe where the Human Order was weakest.
Or Shirou, who was almost certainly going to throw himself at every problem in sight. Undoubtedly, he was already spending every waking moment on finding countermeasures and solutions for the threat of the Phantasmal Beasts.
Waver just hoped the boy wasn't working too hard.
Sitting at the back of the class in complete idleness, leaning against the back-rest of his chair in a relaxed pose, Shirou let out a soft, contented sigh as he allowed his mind to stray to nothing in particular, paying the teacher no mind whatsoever.
It was good to be back at school.
That wasn't something one usually expected to hear from a student, especially not one like Shirou, who had little interest in academic pursuits, but it was true. He was genuinely happy to be back at Homurahara, where he could spend the next few weeks doing nothing much at all.
He needed the rest, after all the hecticness of the past few weeks. He deserved it too, after fighting three Dead Apostle Ancestors in quick succession, among many other things.
It was safe to say that Shirou hadn't enjoyed his time in Misaki Town. It had been a series of problems, issues, and potential disasters that had kept him on his feet for three days straight, forcing him to use more power than he'd ever used before. He'd been kicked around, sent from one end of the city to the other, and had been confronted with multiple massacres he'd failed to prevent.
Yes, he'd made a new friend in Arcueid, and the results of his expedition were nothing to sneeze at, so he didn't want to write the trip off as a total disaster, but it had certainly been a trying ordeal.
So trying in fact, that when he came back, he'd slept for twelve hours straight. Something Mjolnir referred to as his 'Shirou-sleep'. A sign of how exhausted he'd been.
The subsequent meeting with Zelretch had been rather stressful too, as were the implications of that conversation, and he definitely shouldn't forget either that he was going to the Clocktower again very soon, which would undoubtedly be quite the ordeal as well.
With that in mind, was it any wonder that he wanted to take his rest while he could? That he wanted to enjoy a mostly normal life until duty called again?
He didn't think so.
Yes, there was a lot he still had to do, from preparing for his next confrontation with Gilgamesh to figuring out how to deal with the return of Mystery, but he wasn't going to achieve anything by rushing around blindly. For now, he needed to recharge.
His lazing about at school did not go unnoticed by his teachers, but none of them said anything about it. His grades were beyond excellent after all, and he never caused any trouble for them, so they took a live-and-let-live stance with him.
It also helped that Taiga had explained away his extended stay at the Clocktower during the summer as him attending a prestigious university in London that had reached out to him because of his stellar grades and results. A prestigious university that was highly satisfied with his performance so far, to the point that they had called him back over the winter holidays, which would cause him to perhaps miss another week or two of school.
It was a clever ruse, and with such an accomplishment under his belt, the teachers were even less inclined to make trouble for him. If he continued on his current track, he'd be a feather in the cap of the school council and the teachers, who could pretend to have contributed to his success. If they pushed him too hard though, he might say something negative about them later on, or even switch schools entirely, which would greatly shame them instead.
It was quite a mercenary approach to education, but Shirou understood. That was just how Japanese society functioned. He didn't like it, especially now that he had experienced and seen many better ways, but for now, there was nothing he could do to change it, which meant he might as well take advantage of it to get the teachers off his back.
The only exception to this were his English classes, where he had Taiga herself as his teacher. Taiga, who was the one who'd come up with the university-ruse in the first place and thus knew it wasn't true, and who was his big sister, and therefore hell-bent on pushing him to be the best he could be.
Needless to say, he applied himself seriously during her lessons, lest he suffer her wrath, even if his grasp of English was already better than hers in many ways.
"Shirou." Once more, she zeroed in on him from the moment he entered her classroom, and he hadn't even sat down properly before she literally threw a book at him. "Page thirty-six. Recite the poem out loud for the class."
Naturally, he did, in excellent English.
"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore— While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door— Only this and nothing more."
It was the first paragraph of the most famous poem of Edgar Allan Poe, titled 'The Raven'. Taiga had selected it as a practical assignment for the coming month, in that her students would have to practice reciting it with the correct pronunciation, before translating it into proper Japanese while making sure the poetic meaning of the words and lines remained intact.
It was a very challenging assignment, especially for high-school students, but then, Taiga didn't expect them to succeed. She just wanted to see how far they would get with it, to get a picture of everyone's aptitude for English.
She'd entrusted to Shirou once that the hardest part of her job was the fact that in every single one of her classes, there were massive differences in skill between individual students that she had to account for. Some of them regularly watched English television shows and read English books and loudly sang along with English songs, giving them a fair bit of skill already, while others had never as much as seen an English word before.
Differences like that didn't exist in mathematics classes or biology lessons, and English teachers had to work hard to stay on top of things, especially with the new students at the start of year, whose level of skill was a complete unknown.
That was why she'd chosen such a difficult text to work with, rather than just a page from a popular fiction book or something, to ensure no one would be able to perfectly complete the assignment, not even Shirou.
Reciting it with perfect pronunciation was easy enough for him, and translating it would be just as simple, but making sure that the meaning behind the poem remained intact even after it had been translated, to correctly interpret every implication and metaphor, was beyond him.
He just wasn't a very poetic person, even if he did enjoy reading poems from time to time.
"And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting, On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor, Shall be lifted—nevermore!"
"Thank you, Shirou." Taiga nodded in approval, having found no fault in his recital, before she looked at the other students, who had understood very little to nothing and were in varying states of confusion and panic.
And if her eyes were alight with a demonic shine, showing how much she enjoyed the distress she was causing, Shirou politely pretended not to notice.
It resulted in a slightly chaotic lesson as Taiga explained the assignment and its purpose, though she firmly held on to the reins all the while, and after she'd handed out copies of the poem to everyone, it was already time for the lunch break.
The students quickly left the classroom, one small group after the other, until Taiga and Shirou were the only ones left.
"Can't talk now, Shirou. I've gotta print out some tests before the next lesson starts."
Then it was only Shirou, sitting by himself in the left-back corner of the room, right next to the window. The natural place for main characters, or so Taiga had claimed when she'd put him there at the start of the year.
Technically, students weren't supposed to remain in the classrooms during breaktime, especially not on their own, but Taiga had never cared much about such rules, not with him. She had no compunctions about leaving him there, knowing he wouldn't cause any trouble and would lock the door behind him when he left.
He didn't have the key, but then, he didn't need it.
Shirou wasn't in a particular hurry to get up though, as he had nothing to do that day. He had no repair work of any kind, Issei was in a meeting with the student council, talking at length about an ongoing feud between the track club and the baseball club, Ayako was having a private discussion with the captain of the archery club, and Rin was currently pretending she had no idea who he was.
That left no one for him to talk with. He only had one friend and two girlfriends at Homurahara, and no casual acquaintances he could chat with. Most people either thought him weird or a teacher's pet, making him somewhat of an outlier, and Shirou had no particular desire to interact with them in turn.
He just couldn't get used to their mindsets and their interests. He'd tried to keep an open mind, honestly, and in general, there wasn't anything wrong with being interested in anime, manga, games, books, or bands, but he just couldn't get into it, nor was he good enough at pretending to fit in anyway.
Oddly enough, it was easier for him to interact with other Magi than with his fellow students, which meant he actually had more friends at the Clocktower than at Homurahara. More acquaintances too. Fewer girlfriends though.
It probably said nothing good about him that he was better connected at that cesspool than at a school filled with his peers, but that was just how it was.
In the end, even though he'd made great strides in recovering from trauma of the Great Fire, he still wasn't social enough to flourish at a high school, and likely never would be. When his few friends were otherwise occupied, he was left with no one.
It seemed he'd have to spend his break here alone.
Although… Perhaps not completely alone.
Distracted as he was, Shirou only noticed the newcomer's presence when she came within mere metres of him, but he recognised her straight away, so he did not react overly much when she suddenly placed her hands over his eyes from behind.
"Guess who?" She sang playfully, holding her mouth right next to his ear.
"Marilyn Monroe?" Shirou threw out the first name that came to mind.
"Nope. She's not half as pretty as me."
"Ah, so it is you, Rin." He concluded most seriously, and he was rewarded with a happy laugh as she took her hands away again, before she turned him around.
"I don't know why you'd think an American celebrity would come all the way out here just to talk to you, but at least you're aware of the disparity between her and me." She grinned, before giving him a quick kiss. "I don't have long. I just came to check up on you. I heard from a few of the girls that you looked a bit down today."
"Did I?" Shirou winced at the information. If his classmates, who were normally perfectly content to ignore him, had noticed something amiss, then he really had to have looked downright awful. "I'm sorry, Rin, but nothing's wrong. I was just thinking about the future."
"The Clocktower." Rin nodded, her countenance turning more serious as she crossed her arms. "I understand. I have to admit that I am slightly nervous too. I-I was hoping you wouldn't be though."
"Of course." Shirou sat up straight, realising this was not the time for pathetic displays on his part. In a few weeks, Rin would be coming with him to the Clocktower, but while he had already established a foothold in that place, she neither had that foothold nor the protection that the rank of Sorcerer granted him. She was making herself acutely vulnerable, entering that shark pool thousands of kilometres away from home, and it was only natural that she wanted to depend on him for a bit, just until she got her footing.
Right now, it was his task to be a beacon of confidence and stability for her to take comfort in, not the other way around.
"It will be fine." He promised her, pulling her down into his lap and placing a comforting hand on her cheek. "You're going to be great over there. I am sure of it."
"Yes, I am sure of that too." She agreed casually, like he was only regurgitating the blindingly obvious, but since she was pressed flush against him, he could feel how she relaxed ever so slightly in response to his words. "Would it surprise you if I told you I am actually looking forward to it?"
"Not at all. You've been wanting to take your research to a higher level for as long as I have known you. I am happy you're finally getting the chance you deserve."
"And all because of you." Rin smiled, leaning her cheek into his hand, practically snuggling it.
"You would have gotten into the Clocktower one way or another." Shirou was completely confident in her resourcefulness, waving away his meagre contribution. "I just helped you along a little."
"For which I am eternally grateful."
Rin seemed to be in an excellent mood for some reason, having abandoned her tsundere-persona entirely, as she leaned in to give him another kiss, her beautiful, blue eyes warm and open as she lovingly held his gaze.
A part of Shirou wondered where her sudden affectionate behaviour was coming from, but he made absolutely sure not to mention it. If she felt comfortable enough to behave like this, he wasn't going to complain. He would be crazy if he rejected this soft and willing girl.
Unfortunately for the happy couple though, they were still at school, surrounded by people unaware of their relationship, and that meant they had to reluctantly separate far sooner than either of them wanted.
"I told the others I'd forgotten something in class, and that I was going to pick it up. I can't be gone for more than a few minutes. Unless…?" Rin was clearly wondering if she could get away with a minute more, but Shirou shook his head, causing her to sigh in resignation. "You're right, I should be going. Come after me in a minute or so, you shouldn't spend all your time up here alone."
"I am fine-"
"Please?"
She gave him that look again, that warm, loving look, as she held up her hands in a begging motion, and Shirou's resolve crumbled faster than a dry biscuit in an industrial press.
"I'll be along shortly."
"Thank you!"
She gave him a smile, one that was so cute and beautiful that it should be illegal, before she hurried off again.
Following her instructions to the letter, Shirou went after her about a minute later, heading to the cafeteria as well after he locked the door of the classroom behind him with a bit of Magecraft.
The cafeteria itself was exactly as he'd expected it to be. The same as it always was. Busy, loud, and packed to the brim with students eating, chatting, and doing whatever else students did during breaktime.
As in most schools, the cafeteria of Homurahara wasn't big enough to accommodate everyone, meaning there was a critical shortage of room and chairs. Many students were sitting on the tables or the floor, packed together like sardines in a can. That they maintained a good mood in spite of that, in a situation that would have adults screaming for an attorney, went to show just how good an atmosphere the school usually possessed.
That, or just how used students were to being treated horribly.
In any case, Shirou didn't care much for the idea of joining them, of taking up the tiny bit of space that was left, so he remained near the wall, away from the largest mass of people, where he could spend the rest of the break in relative peace.
Naturally, he chose a spot from where he could keep an eye on Rin, the only reason he was even here. If he absolutely had to spend his break in the cafeteria, he at least wanted something nice to look at, and Rin was always nice to look at.
He didn't come so close it became noticeable of course, that would make him seem creepy to the people who didn't know he was her boyfriend, which was pretty much everyone there. She already had her fair share of overzealous admirers and people one step below stalkers, there was no need to make everyone think she now had another.
As he'd expected, Rin was sitting at the biggest, cleanest and most coveted table of the cafeteria, as befitted the school idol. From what he'd heard, she'd claimed it in the first week of the year, and no one had been able to wrest it away from her since. The only way now to get a seat at that table was by getting Rin's permission, something she usually only bestowed upon a few select people, the ones who'd proven they could act at least a bit normally in her presence.
Leaning against the wall perpendicular from Rin, Shirou was able to see how she held court with those chosen ones, listening with interest as they reported to her on what they'd seen and heard that day.
Using his superhuman hearing, he decided to listen in, curious as to what a perfect school idol might be discussing with her fellows.
He soon realised though that they weren't discussing the latest gossip, or exchanging blackmail material, or even comparing new brands of make-up, but that they were talking about boyfriends, relationships, and boys in general.
Cliché much?
"M-Mashida-kun from our class is rather handsome, isn't he?" One girl said, trying and failing to keep a straight face in an attempt to make it seem as if she didn't actually care about said boy. "I-I mean, he's not as handsome as that amazing idol-singer Masaya Kimura of course, p-perish the thought, b-but still, I think he is-"
"Oh, I love Mayasa Kimura! His songs are so beautiful!" Another girl gasped, completely missing the point and missing how the first girl flinched. "I've been wanting to go to one of his concerts for ages! I wish he'd do one in Fuyuki once! He always skips us! Even though Fuyuki is the biggest city in the region!"
"That's because we don't have a concert hall in Fuyuki. We only have cinemas and theatres, and they are not big enough for him." A third girl complained, clenching her fists at the injustice of it all. "Ugh, it's as if the city council doesn't realise how much money they could earn if they build one here. Literally everyone loves idols!"
"Literally everyone?" Rin asked, a note of interest in her voice, as she lifted a curious eyebrow at the third girl without marring her beautiful, perfect, utterly fake smile in any way.
"W-Well, maybe not everyone, but lots of people do. E-Enough to make a profit from."
"They must have a reason not to build one though." The second girl argued, apparently coming to the council's defence.
She was more correct than she realised. The council did indeed have a very good reason not to build a concert hall within Fuyuki's borders.
That reason was Fujimura Raiga, Fuyuki's own Oyabun, who personally vetoed every proposal to build a concert hall in his city.
Not because the old man hated concerts or anything like that, but because space in the city was already scarce even without such a behemoth of a building, to say nothing of the railroads and parking spaces it would need as well. Furthermore, the distribution of Fuyuki's populace meant that hundreds of people would live within hearing distance of the hall, suffering from the noise, no matter where you build it, and the potentially huge number of tourist who'd come to such concerts would block every road in and out of the city every time an artist wanted to perform. It was a lot of unnecessary trouble, especially since there already was a concert hall less than fifty kilometres away from the city, easily reached with public transport or by car.
Even the one supposed benefit, the money that a concert hall might bring in, wasn't actually much of a benefit at all. Most of the profit made from such spectacles was drained away by ticket sellers and the artists themselves, leaving the city with nothing but a bill and a lot of rubbish to clean up.
Raiga didn't want anything like that in his Fuyuki, and since his control over the council was near absolute, his will be done.
It was a pity for the third girl, but a concert hall in Fuyuki just wasn't going to happen.
"B-But what about Mashida-kun?!"
Everyone at the table, and Shirou too, looked back at the first girl, the one who'd started this whole discussion with her question about the handsomeness of her probable crush, Mashida. Red-faced yet determined, she evidently was desperate to get her opinion about him validated, to get confirmation from her friends that the boy she secretly loved was appealing to the eye, but she wilted when no one said anything.
Until Rin came to the rescue.
"Mashida-kun certainly has chiselled features." She nodded gracefully, turning her fake smile up a little to positively beam at the first girl. "What I like the most about him though is the fact that you can see at once that he is a very kind person. His eyes are wonderfully bright. I think any girl who can make him fall in love with her is a lucky girl indeed."
She then complemented her assurance with a nudge from her elbow, giving the first girl a meaningful glance.
No one failed to realise what she wanted to say.
"Tohsaka-san!" The girl stared at Rin with eyes full of literal worship, looking ready to bow down and kiss her toes right that moment. "Y-Yes, I understand!"
"Good girl." Rin patted her head, and the girl looked as if she could die from sheer delight.
Shirou was impressed. Rin had handled that very well. She'd spoken as little as possible and kept her comments carefully neutral, until it was time to offer a helping hand. Then she'd gone all in, reaffirming her followers' loyalty and demonstrating once more just why she was considered the school's perfect idol.
It seemed like a little thing, giving a girl in love some validation and advice, something even Shirou would be capable of, but to do so consistently over the course of months and even years without ever losing her patience was what separated Rin from the rest of them.
That it was all a fake persona made it even more impressive, though Shirou knew Rin didn't much mind this part of the job. According to her, being kind and giving advice to friends was the easy part of being an idol.
The hard part was dealing with the animosity of her rivals and detractors.
As if summoned by the very thought, an older girl then entered the cafeteria. She was evidently a third-year, and a popular one, judging by how everyone stopped what they were doing to look up at her.
Though that also might have something to do with the warlike expression on her face.
Though Homurahara's student population was generally quite affable, there were exceptions, and Shirou had no doubt they were about to see one of those exceptions in action.
"Natsumi-san!" Rin kindly welcomed the older girl when said girl came to stand at her table, arms crossed and legs hip-width apart. "It is good to see you again. My table is quite busy already, but I'm sure we can find a spot for you."
"Don't bother. I'm only stopping by for a quick word. I need to say hello to the school's new queen after all." Natsumi's smile was almost pristine, nearly as good as Rin's, but an observant person might have noticed the tenseness in her lips. "What were you all talking about?"
"Boyfriends." The first girl replied as if nothing was wrong, showing herself to be not very observant at all. "Tohsaka-san was giving me some advice."
"Boyfriends? What a lovely topic." Natsumi's smile turned a bit more genuine, a bit softer, showing she did indeed like the subject. "And Tohsaka-san was giving advice? Splendid! She must be an expert, with all the experience she has in lovemaking."
"Experience?" Rin recognised the dig for what it was, an implication that she was an easy girl, but didn't let it unbalance her. "Not at all. Everything I say comes from my knowledge of people in general. I find that boys are quite predictable, wouldn't you say? Why, it's almost as if they are human, like you and me."
That got her a round of giggles, from her friends at the table but also from people elsewhere in the hall.
"Oh, you don't have any experience? That must be one of the few areas in which I am ahead of you then." Natsumi rapidly changed tactics, recognising the venue of making Rin out to be a slut wasn't going anywhere, before she reached behind her and fished another third-year, a male one, out of the crowd. "Allow me to introduce you to my boyfriend, Saza Junji. Isn't he cool?"
She was clearly showing him off, demonstrating the difference between herself and Rin, and Shirou had to admit that Saza indeed looked cool.
With his short, black hair that had been slicked back, an unbuttoned uniform that was missing its tie, a musculature that was visible even through his clothes, and the shades he was wearing indoors, he looked like the man every boy wanted to be.
"Yo." Even his little nod was cool, a mixture of respect for the people he was talking to and defiance towards the social norms. "How're ya doing?"
"I am doing quite well, Saza-san, thank you for asking." Rin matched his little nod and his tone perfectly, pretending not to notice his eyes roaming over her body. "So you are Natsumi's boyfriend? What wonderful news! Have you been together long?"
"Nah, 'course not. I had lots of chicks before her." The notion of a long-term relationship seemed ludicrous to the teen, and he failed to notice how Natsumi stiffened in alarm next to him. "I'm a more casual sorta guy. I'd never say no to a lady, if ya know what I mean."
It was impossible not to know what he meant, with the way he was leering at Rin now. Shirou had half a mind to tell him to keep his eyes to himself, but he held back, knowing that she could look out for herself.
"What a horrible thing to say!" Rin gasped, her expression a perfect display of affronted shock, which set the cafeteria abuzz with whispers and murmurs. "Does Natsumi-chan mean nothing to you?!"
"Huh?" Saza blinked in confusion, clearly caught off guard by the fact he was suddenly regarded as the bad guy. "C-Course she does! We're just in a… in an open relationship!"
"An open relationship?" Despite the fact she herself was in a relationship that was quite unlike the norm, Rin made a disgusted face at the term. "Hm, I suppose that is almost fortunate. At least Natsumi-chan is free to find someone more worthy of her than you."
"Wha?! No way, she's my girl!" The idea of sharing his girlfriend with another man had Saza up in arms immediately, but at least he had enough self-awareness to realise right away that he had just massively contradicted himself. "Ah, what I mean is…"
"Tsk." But Rin wasn't interested anymore, turning up her nose while looking at him like he was a chewed-up piece of gum on the sidewalk. A look she had perfected in the mirror. "Go away. Natsumi-chan deserves better."
"B-But…" Keenly aware of how the whole cafeteria now looked at him with disapproval and, in the case of a few girls, outright revulsion, Saza struggled for a moment longer, before he turned red with impotent rage. "How dare you-?!"
"That's enough." Before he could fly at Rin, Shirou stepped up and grabbed his collar, twisting it and pulling the other teen off-balance. "You're leaving. Come on."
He resolutely escorted Saza out of the cafeteria, moving so quickly the teen had no chance to realise just what was happening.
"Oh, this is so awful." Behind him, he heard Rin trying to console a thoroughly humiliated Natsumi, with a voice that positively dripped with honey. "What a terrible thing, Natsumi-chan. Are you alright?"
She sounded sincere enough, but Shirou knew this whole debacle had been exactly what the black-haired girl had been going for. It was a plan to take the third-year down a peg or two, and it had worked wonderfully, probably even better than Rin had anticipated.
The redhead didn't feel sorry for Natsumi though. The girl had come straight at Rin with the explicit purpose of causing trouble, and she couldn't complain now that it had been turned around on her.
She'd struck at the queen, and now it was off with her head.
Shirou deposited Saza into the school's outer garden, leaving him there to stew in his humiliation. He was probably going to cause more trouble down the line, judging by the fury in his eyes, so Shirou would have to keep an eye on him.
With the trash put outside, the redhead went back to class. There, he dozed his way through three more lessons, and then went to search for Rin again.
He found her in their cupboard, the one they used when they wanted to have some private time. It was a tiny space, forcing them to press their bodies flush against each other, but that was an arrangement they were both quite happy with.
"I still rule supreme." Rin boasted once the door was closed, puffing out her chest, into his chest. "Hehe, that all went exactly according to plan."
"Was that why you wanted me to come to the cafeteria? To see all that?"
"Well, yeah. I heard that Natsumi was planning something, and I knew you were bored, so I thought I'd give you a show to remember."
She looked very pleased with herself, her expression practically demanding he praised her, and Shirou happily obliged.
"You stole the show. I don't think anyone will forget that anytime soon, least of all Natsumi and Saza."
"Yes, everyone now knows their place again. It is good to remind them of it every once in a while."
"Their place?"
"Below me."
"Ah." Was it wrong of him to think she was absolutely adorable? "Of course."
He kissed her, and she happily reciprocated.
"Shirou?" After a while though, Rin turned serious again, giving him a no-nonsense look. "What is wrong?"
"Wrong?"
"Yes, wrong. Something has been bothering you all day. You do a good job of hiding it, even from yourself, but I can see it. So tell me, what is going on?"
"…" For a few moments, Shirou hesitated, before he sighed, knowing she was right. Something was indeed bothering him. "I am thinking about going back to being Rakurai."
"Hm." Rin's eyes narrowed, and she cocked her head to the side.
He waited for the scolding that was sure to follow, the disappointment he was going to see in her eyes, the knot of worry in his stomach tightening with every second of silence.
Of all of the people in the Emiya-household, Rin was the one who was most against him picking up the mantle of the dreaded vigilante again. Ayako and Illya were all in favour, Sakura didn't really have an opinion on the matter as long as he was careful, and Sella and Leysritt would go along with what Illya said. Rin alone stood diametrically opposed to it, and that meant he was probably going to get an earful right now.
"Well, that's fine."
"…Huh?"
Shirou blinked, wondering if he'd heard her correctly.
"I said it's fine. Or rather, I expected it."
He had heard her correctly?
"You… expected it?"
"Frankly, I am astounded you lasted as long as you did. I must have succeeded better than I thought at instilling some caution into you." Even in this situation, Rin didn't miss the opportunity to praise herself a little. "But in the end, you are still you. You are still the man I fell in love with, and I cannot change that in any meaningful way, nor would I want to. You are a hero, and heroes must do what heroes do."
"So, you are fine with it?" Shirou almost couldn't believe his ears, couldn't believe his sudden good fortune.
"I'm still not happy with it, but at least I can accept it." Rin sighed, her breath tickling his ear. "I have conditions though."
"Name them."
"I want you to inform me of all your plans in advance, I want full reports afterwards, you will listen to me if I forbid any specific action, and you will try your utmost to avoid anything illegal. If you can do that, I will support you."
"Deal!" Shirou hugged her tightly, squeezing her as hard as he could get away with, which she rather seemed to like. "Thank you, Rin."
"Well, like I said, considering your nature, it was bound to happen. Besides, I imagine Thor doesn't help much either."
"Thor?" Shirou blinked. "What does he have to do with this?"
"Oh, come on. Certainly, you must have discovered by now what sort of god he was?"
"…The god of Thunder?"
"Alright, that's on me. I made that too easy." Rin rolled her eyes in exasperation. "He is most known for being a god of thunder, yes, and I suppose he was also the god of fertility, oak trees, the Earth, goats and many more things. What I mean right now though, is that he was the god of Order, of Justice."
"Right." Now Shirou understood. Thor was indeed the Guardian of Society, the one who fought the ruinous powers that came from outside. He was the greatest enemy of the Jotuns, the chaos-creatures now known as Giants, who represented destruction and anarchy. As much as Odin was seen as the Ruler, the Wise One, it was Thor who wielded the judge's gavel.
"You want to be a hero and Thor wants to maintain order. Both of you have every reason to become Rakurai again." Rin finished, before letting out a minute sigh. "I'm not happy with it, I want that to be clear, but I can accept it, provided you take the proper precautions."
There was a lot Shirou could have said in response, a lot he should say, but he didn't. Instead, he broke the hug and grabbed Rin's face with both hands.
"Want to get some experience in lovemaking?"
"Yeah."
Rin didn't even hesitate, and they locked their lips together.
In-between the kisses though, they did exchange a few last words.
"Illya will be delighted." Rin noted, her wry smile only lasting half-a-second before Shirou kissed it away.
"She might even offer to make you an outfit too." The redhead agreed. "One she thinks will fit you well."
"That doesn't sound bad." Rin gasped when he suddenly kissed her neck, right above the shoulder. "Hrm, I wonder what kind of costumes she's making for Sakura and Ayako. She said she knew exactly what would suit them best."
"We'll just have to wait and see."
Then they didn't speak anymore, too busy with their lovemaking-practice.
"This is what you think of me?!"
Sakura couldn't help but splutter in protest when she looked into the mirror in Illya's bedroom and saw just what kind of costume the white-haired girl had created for her.
"Yup." Illya nodded happily, beaming as if nothing was wrong with the world. "I thought long and hard about it, and I decided that this is the costume that suits you best of all the costumes in the world."
The little sprite had been working very hard over the past few days, labouring tirelessly to put Sakura's outfit together, and this afternoon, she felt the time was ripe for a trail run. She'd asked Sakura to try the costume on, to get her opinion and work out any possible kinks.
Not seeing anything wrong with that, Sakura had agreed.
Only to discover that the word 'kink' applied to the outfit in more ways than one.
"This is a dominatrix outfit!"
Sakura almost couldn't believe her eyes. She flushed a bright red, and had to consciously stop herself from covering her face with her hands in embarrassment, instead turning to Illya to demand an explanation.
Perhaps she should have seen it earlier, noticed the outfit's nature while changing, but it had been presented to her in a haphazard pile, making it impossible to distinguish what it was, and Illya had kept her under so much pressure to hurry up while changing that she hadn't stopped to study the design in detail.
Why would she anyway? She hadn't expected this in the slightest when Illya promised to make a costume for her. She had just put it on, aided by the little trickster, and only now, looking into a mirror, did the plum-haired girl actually see what she looked like.
Like a classic dominatrix.
This had to be a joke!
Right?
"Precisely. It is indeed a dominatrix outfit." Illya agreed with the utmost seriousness, showing not a hint of humour as she calmly took the outfit's measurements as if nothing was wrong. "I made it to complement your dominant side."
"I-I… W-Wha…? I-I don't have a dominant side!" Sakura vehemently denied the very idea, just like she denied her first observation, that the costume actually looked rather good on her.
First, a tight black corset, going from her boobs to just below her waist, where it looped between her legs in a highly indecent mimicry of a leotard. It was cut so low at the top that it left half of her breasts exposed, only just coming high enough to barely cover her nipples, and cut so high at the bottom she felt like her whole ass was out. Naturally, the complete lack of underwear was glaringly obvious.
Second, elbow-length, fingerless gloves, coloured black of course, with a tiny bit of armour around the wrists to give them a bit of a martial appearance. Third, a golden tiara on her head, holding back her hair, giving the outfit an air of royalty. Fourth, black stockings, with a bit of armour around the ankles, that went from her feet to halfway up her thighs, though they didn't cover her toes and heels. Last, to finish it all off, a horse crop that Illya had just pressed into her hands.
She looked dangerous, and sexy. Dangerously sexy. The outfit was smoking hot, and Sakura had no idea how to deal with that.
"Nonsense. Of course you have a dominant side." Illya dismissed her protests out of hand, checking the stitchwork on the seams of the corset with an appraising eye. Judging by the frown that appeared on her forehead, she wasn't satisfied with it. "You look fantastic, like you are finally bringing out what's been hidden inside of you for so long. Or at least, you will, once I improve the outfit. By the Golden Spires, this thing's a mess!"
"Huh?" Sakura blinked in surprise at Illya's grumbling, looking into the mirror again and taking the time to really study the costume in detail. "It looks fine to me though?"
"Ugh, stop! You don't have to spare my feelings. I mean, look at it! The stitchwork is all off, the seams of your gloves don't align with your arms, the stockings haven't been finished properly, which means they'll start fraying in weeks at most, and I completely forgot to add a choker for around your neck."
"Oh, right." Frankly, Sakura didn't see it, except the missing choker of course, but if Illya wanted to work on the outfit a bit longer, she wasn't going to stop her. In fact, she might have a few comments of her own. "What about the boots?"
"The boots?"
"Yes, outfits like this one usually have boots as well, right? The thigh-high, black and high-heeled ones?"
"Oh, those." Illya nodded in understanding, before she shook her head. "No, I decided to leave those out."
"I see. Can I ask why?"
"Because it would be a massive waste to hide your beautiful feet." Illya didn't bat an eye as she gave the baffling reply, even as Sakura flushed slightly. "I made those stockings specifically to show off your feet. I suppose I could add a few toe-rings, and I'll paint your nails black, but I am not going to give you any boots or shoes. You'll have to make do without!"
"Okay, okay, I get it." Illya's voice had become progressively more passionate as she explained her reasoning, and Sakura hastily accepted before she started shouting and might draw her maids to the bedroom. The boots weren't that important anyway. "Then, uhm, if I can make another suggestion, about the corset…?"
It fit her extremely well, hugging her form tightly without being uncomfortable in the slightest, but Sakura worried it might be a bit too tight, showing off too much. Also, she wouldn't mind if it covered a bit more skin, at least to the point where she didn't risk exposing a nipple or a glance at her womanhood with every move she made.
"Say no more. I know exactly what you want."
"You do?"
"Yes. You feel it is too conservative! The corset needs to be even tighter, to better show off your curves, and it covers too much skin. Don't worry though, I'll make it an even better fit, and I'll cut out some parts on the abdomen, the back, and the flanks. Ah, the contrast between the black fabric and your white skin will be so amazing!"
"Now wait just a moment!"
That was the exact opposite of what she wanted!
"Can't wait! Time's a wastin." Illya didn't listen though, but then, she hadn't since Sakura had put on the outfit. "Can you try out the horse crop now? Just give it a swish at nothing in particular."
"…" Sakura had half a mind to protest again, to insist that Illya made the corset more conservative, not less, but knowing that the girl wouldn't listen anyway, she capitulated, for now. "Just swing it? Fine."
She swung the crop in a vicious motion, hearing how it made a lovely swishing sound.
"That seems alright at least." Illya nodded in satisfaction at the sound, before she pensively crossed her arms. "To really know for sure it functions well though, we'll have to test it on a live subject. I suggest using Rin-"
"Stop that." Sakura instantly realised Illya's motives, and she cut the little sprite off, giving her a frown. "Do not use me as a tool in your rivalry with her. I want no part of it."
"E-Eh?" Illya's attempt to mime confusion was hopelessly inadequate, but she didn't give up yet. "I wasn't thinking anything like that-"
"Do you think I am an idiot?" Sakura seized the other girl's chin with her free hand, instantly shutting her up, before brandishing the crop threateningly with the other. "I want to hear no more of this, or you will be my test subject."
Though Sakura wasn't much taller than Illya, she seemed to tower over the girl, utterly dominating in appearance and demeanour. With her distinctive outfit, her chin lifted to look down her nose at Illya, and the disapproving expression on her face, it could even be said that she looked downright intimidating.
Intimidating, and excruciatingly hot.
"…Marvellous." Illya breathed out, stars appearing in her eyes as she witnessed for herself how her costume came to life. "You truly are a natural!"
"W-Wha?"
The spell broke, and Sakura was left blushing and spluttering while Illya fawned over her.
It was an enjoyable afternoon for them both.
Gladstone Phamrsolone was not having an enjoyable afternoon.
Which was strange, because by all accounts, he should be most pleased indeed. He was in his Workshop, safe and sound, doing his research alongside his beloved wife, attaining success after success, with nothing in sight that should possibly have the power to bring his mood down.
But that just went to show that outward appearances were deceiving, because in fact, it could be said that he was most assuredly not having a good time right now.
"Gladstone? What is wrong with you, my love?"
Naturally, his beautiful wife, Hermione, noticed his distress despite his best attempts to hide it. After so many years together, working side by side both in their research and their lives, she generally had a fairly good sense for his moods and wiles, just like he had a good sense for hers.
She was trying to be there for him, going as far as to interrupt her work in order to take his hand, pleading with him to confide in her, and while Gladstone loved her to bits for it, he rather wished she'd leave it be this time.
Because his current problems were his and his alone.
He couldn't say that however, for she'd never accept it. She might even feel insulted he had the gall to try and dismiss her, and a wroth wife was terrifying indeed.
So he would have to try and distract her somehow.
"Please, darling, do not concern yourself over me." He started out by playing the strong man, assuming a stubborn expression he knew she would pierce straight through.
"Gladstone." Indeed, she wasn't fooled for a moment, giving him a patient yet insistent look. "We are husband and wife. You can trust me."
"I promise you it is nothing dire. It's just that…" He let his voice trail off, looking away as if in shame and guilt.
"That?" She prompted him, taking a step closer.
"No, it is nothing. Please, don't let-"
"Gladstone." Her voice took on a warning edge, one that showed it was high time he manned up and fessed up, and Gladstone pretended to yield at last.
"No, you are right, my dear. It is dire! I am nearly in the grip of despair. The many years of failure are getting to me." Hamming it up just a little, but not too much, he brought up a matter that was indeed troubling him, but wasn't the one he was actually concerned about right now.
"Failure?" His wife fell for it hook, line, and sinker, and Gladstone had to hide the flash of triumph in his eyes. "Gladstone, we haven't failed-"
"Don't say that!" Dramatically, he turned away from her, pressing his hands to his chest as if in actual pain. "You know it is true. How long have we spent researching those blasted Mystic Eyes already? How many failures have we had to suffer through over the past eighteen years? How often have we promised our sweet Ophelia that the Awakening of her beautiful Mystic Eye was close at hand, only to fail to follow through every time? We failed, Hermione! We failed our daughter!"
His words were harsh, but they were true, and the last point in particular hit his wife hard. They both loved their daughter more than anything else in the world and wanted only the best for her, yet it was becoming increasingly clear lately that they had consistently failed her since her birth.
Ophelia was special, there was no denying it. She was the long-awaited result of many generations of careful breeding, the successful outcome of a plan that aimed to bring about the manifestation of a Jewel-Ranked Mystic Eye in a member of the Phamrsolone-family. She alone had achieved that pinnacle, even if her eye had been dormant when she was born.
Elated by the success, Gladstone and Hermione had thrown caution to the wind and tried all manner of brazen experiments on Ophelia in an attempt to awaken it. Experiments that should have been refined first. Experiments that, in hindsight, had led absolutely nowhere.
They had monopolised their daughter's time, forbidden her from learning any Magecraft of her own in fear that it would interfere with the process of awakening, and kept her hidden away from the world. At the time, they had thought it best for her. A necessary evil that shouldn't take much longer than a year or two.
But now, Ophelia was at the cusp of womanhood already with her eye as dormant as ever, and Gladstone and Hermione were struck with the realisation that all their efforts, the countless experiments and treatments, had been for nothing, and that they had stolen many years of their daughter's life with nothing to show for it.
More than that, they had wasted her entire childhood.
Yes, Ophelia was always delighted to participate in her parents' research, and she never complained about any of it, but that only made it worse. She'd trusted them so completely, and they had failed her, putting too much pressure on her when they should have let her find her own place in the world first.
Just thinking about all the Magecraft Ophelia could have learned, all the research she could have done, if she hadn't been pulled into her family's project too early brought bitter tears to Hermione's eyes, as she was overwhelmed with regret.
Of course, Gladstone hated seeing her like that, even if it was all according to plan, and he gently embraced her, allowing her to cry on his shoulder.
His wife was strong though, and soon, she pulled away again, her tears dried and her eyes full of a fiery light that showed she wasn't about to give up yet.
"We have failed our daughter, yes, but all is not lost. We shall attempt once more, and this time, we shall succeed." She swore, looking determined and almost heroic as she proudly held up a fist. "We shall awaken Ophelia's Mystic Eye within the month, and then all shall be well."
"But my dear, we have promised this a hundred times already, over the past ten years at least. What is so different this time?" Gladstone didn't really want to ask, loath to temper her enthusiasm, but they needed to be realistic.
"All those new materials you obtained! Don't tell me you don't feel it, Gladstone. They are so potent I can only shiver in their presence. Those crystals you bought are a miracle on themselves! It seems like I can use them to make anything! It is simply amazing. You are amazing!"
She praised him effusively, stroking his ego and threatening to inflate his head, but Gladstone couldn't enjoy it, as she inadvertently reminded him of his secret predicament. The problems he did not want her to know about.
He had indeed obtained amazing materials, giving them a real shot at awakening Ophelia's Mystic Eye, but the price of those materials had been incomprehensibly high.
In order to obtain them, Gladstone had sold his soul to the Dead Apostle Ancestors.
He was a traitor. There was no denying it. He had betrayed his own kind to their ancient enemy. He was giving them information about his fellow Magi, about the dealings of the Neutral Faction, in exchange for rare and precious materials, ranging from leaves of long-extinct trees to crystals straight from the caves of ORT itself.
Gladstone knew that made him evil, for one did not lie with pigs without getting filthy, and he struggled mightily with it. After all, he hated the Dead Apostles just as much as anyone else, even now. If someone had suggested to him, only as little as a year ago, that he would come to work for them, he would have been most enraged at the scathing insult.
He was not a cackling villain, truly. This had not been his choice. He had been forced into his current situation, by factors beyond his control.
What else should he have done when he had realised, a little over a year ago now, that his attempts to awaken Ophelia's Mystic Eye were entirely fruitless, and that he had stolen her childhood for no gain whatsoever? How could he possibly have sat back and done nothing?
Any father in his position would have done exactly the same, he was certain of it. Any man would have gotten desperate, sufficiently so to do something drastic.
Such as accepting the offer of a mysterious figure to trade information for resources.
Looking back on it, Gladstone was astounded just how easily he'd been reeled in. It had started out small, just a few bits of intel on families he didn't like anyway, but as time went on, he'd been sucked deeper and deeper into the mess, until he had to fork over everything he knew and more. Even when he realised his mysterious benefactors were Dead Apostles, he couldn't stop.
He was well and truly trapped.
The Duke of Predation truly was a vampire by any meaning of the word. He'd reached out a helping hand, only to grab Gladstone by the throat, and he hadn't noticed he was being sucked dry until it was too late.
"We shall awaken Ophelia's Mystic Eye with your new materials." His wife, knowing nothing of this, tried to cheer him up, but only made him more worried instead. "Keep faith, Gladstone."
'Keep faith'.
Easier said than done with a knife poised at his back.
Nevertheless, he nodded, making a brave attempt at a smile. He should not bother his lovely wife with his own issues. That was not how a husband should behave.
Nor would he tell Ophelia, either about his dealings with the Dead Apostle Ancestors or about the fact that all experiments they'd performed so far on her had been useless. It would only needlessly distress her at a time when there was real hope.
Unbeknownst to him however, Ophelia had heard every word.
Since she was keyed into the Bounded Fields of her family's Workshop, Ophelia Phamrsolone was able to listen at the door without being assailed by the defences. It wasn't something she was proud of, eavesdropping on her parents, but she felt she had no choice.
She had to know what they were planning for her next. What sort of experiments they wanted to conduct on her now.
Some people might say that if something horrible was going to happen to you, it was better not to know until it actually happened, but that wasn't Ophelia's experience. She hated being aware that she was going to suffer horribly, but not knowing how exactly. It was absolutely nerve-wracking, almost as bad as the experience itself.
She wanted to know what horrors awaited her, to prepare in whatever way she could, so she regularly eavesdropped on her parents while they were working, pressing her ear against the door of the Workshop, the thin wood providing no obstacle.
It was always bad. Her parents had creative minds, and the treatments they conceived were enough to make her tremble in fright every time. By the time she left, she was always either fearful or outright terrified, depending on how much and how long she was going to suffer that particular time.
But what she heard this time, what she managed to catch from her parents' muffled conversation today, was worse than anything she'd ever heard before. It sapped every bit of strength from her limbs, forcing her to lean on the door as her legs started trembling in shock.
Useless.
The experiments had been useless.
All the pain she'd endured at their hands, all the suffering she'd gone through on their operating table, all the countless hours in which she'd nearly gone mad from the agony, just to awaken her rumoured Mystic Eye…
It had been useless. Completely useless!
She was no closer to awakening it than when the treatments had begun!
Fourteen years of anguish, from her fourth birthday until now, close to her eighteenth, had been for nothing!
And now her parents wanted to try again from the start, without ever telling her the truth!
For the first time in Ophelia's life, shock and fear had to make way for pure rage, and she pushed herself off the door and stormed away, crying and seething at the same time.
Ophelia had always been a dutiful girl, never complaining about anything she went through in the pursuit of her family's ultimate goal. She did what was expected of her and didn't act out in any way. She was calm and obedient, some might even say excessively meek.
Case in point, she didn't even hate her parents, even after everything they'd done to her. She didn't love them, or even like them, but she didn't hate them either. Meek, little Ophelia would never dare to. Instead, she'd found all sorts of other things to blame and despise.
Sunday for instance. Her parents would always work on new treatments during the week and then test them on her on Sunday. Always on Sunday. To the point where she'd come to dread the very day itself.
Scalpels too. She hated them with a passion, frequently indulging in pleasant revenge-fantasies where she'd take all the scalpels in the world and melt them down into a lake of smouldering steel.
The smell of bleach, however faint, made her unreasonably angry no matter where she was or who used it. It wasn't at all unusual for her to want to throttle random cleaners she encountered by pure chance.
But not anymore. No longer was she going to blame a particular day of the week, or surgical implements, or a cleaning agent, for her misery. For the first time in her life, her hatred was aimed at those who deserved it.
Her eyes had finally been opened, and she had a plan for revenge.
Frankly, even she was surprised she was already thinking of revenge only moments after her worldview had been torn apart so suddenly and brutally. One would think that fourteen years of indoctrination to be quiet and meek weren't easily overcome, but there was no denying the fact that a provisory plan to get back at her parents had popped up in her mind only an instant after she heard her father admit the truth to her mother.
Perhaps the plan had been there already, slumbering in her subconscious, only coming to the surface now that Ophelia's passions burned brightly for once. A buried desire to free herself from her yoke, finally coming to expression.
In truth, her first instinct was to pick up a hammer herself, any hammer would do, and smash her parents' skulls in, but that was not within her capabilities. She knew she didn't have the stomach for murder, no matter how well-deserved. She rather doubted she'd have the required physical strength either.
Instead, she'd let the system sort them out, by reporting her father's crimes to the Department of Policies.
Oh yes, she knew about those crimes. She had figured out long ago that her father was up to his neck in something illegal. It was obvious, especially since he barely made an effort to hide it from her.
In his eyes, she was nothing but his dumb little daughter, who happened to possess the ultimate Mystic Eye but didn't amount to much otherwise. She was stupid, harmless, and not worth the effort of lying to.
He was wrong though. Ophelia wasn't a fool, or harmless. She was more than capable of drawing her own conclusions when her father gave her a few weak excuses after she caught him acting shady, or when he dismissed perfectly reasonable questions for no reason whatsoever.
She knew something kept him awake at night, that something made him frown rather than smile when he received extraordinary gifts through the mail, and it was simple enough to deduce that it had to be something illegal.
She hadn't told anyone though, not even her mother. Until now, she'd always stayed well away from it, as good daughters do, politely ignoring his strange behaviour. They were still family after all, and she owed him for taking care of her. She had even believed that he loved her, in his own twisted way, and she wouldn't betray someone who loved her.
No longer. Now that she had learned the truth of his heinous actions towards her, she intended to search his office until she found out exactly what he was up to.
And when she'd found it, she was going straight to the proper authorities to turn him in, to deliver him into the claws of the Department of Policies. That would be her revenge on him, him and her mother both.
Of course, her chances of getting into the Department of Policies were so low as to be infinitely close to zero, she knew that, but fortunately for her, she didn't actually need to go there.
Policies' agents would come to her instead.
Over the past few weeks, Ophelia had been approached by multiple people asking questions about her family, particularly about her father. They were innocent questions, not hinting at any unscrupulous motives in the slightest, but as said before, Ophelia was no fool.
She'd already worked out her father was almost definitely committing crimes, so it wasn't hard to deduce why there suddenly were so many people taking an interest in him.
They were investigating him, scouting out the surroundings and talking with his family in order to procure the evidence they needed to bring him down.
The investigation didn't seem to be going very well so far, considering her father was still a free man, but today was the agents' lucky day. Once Ophelia had the incriminating facts, she was going to hand them straight over to them.
She'd prefer it if she could give them to mister Jonah, the only one of them who'd taken a genuine interest in her rather than just faking it to get to her father, but really, any of them would do.
She shouldn't count her chickens before they'd hatched though. She would have to actually find proof of illegal actions on her father's part first before she could hand anything over.
Entering her father's office was easy enough. She was keyed into every Bounded Field after all, which included not just those on the Workshop but also those on the offices and the living quarters.
She knew it was unusual that she had access to everything, as most Magi were hesitant to allow even their own children entrance to their offices and Workshops, but whereas that used to be a point of pride for her, to be trusted so deeply by her parents, she had long since figured out by now that it was only because they considered her utterly harmless.
Infuriating, and it only cemented her desire for revenge.
Once inside the office, Ophelia looked around. Gladstone didn't like to spend time in here, and it showed, mainly in the complete lack of any personal or interesting items. There was nothing here but documents and files, stored in three separate cabinets, and a single desk with a matching chair.
Ophelia ignored the cabinets, knowing they held only records of bookkeeping and inventory. Instead, she went straight for the hidden compartment in the desk, where her father stored the more sensitive information.
It was quite cleverly hidden, she had to give him that, but that didn't count for much when he had blatantly opened it several times while she'd been in the office too. He hadn't even tried to hide it from her, almost like she was a part of the furniture as well.
Opening the compartment, Ophelia found several files and a number of letters inside. The Bounded Field protecting the compartment was of the same nature as those outside the office, which meant she could simply ignore it and reach inside.
Gladstone might invest massive amounts of time, effort, and money into devising new ways to torture Ophelia, but it seemed he put almost nothing into security.
Infuriating, but it proved convenient in this instance.
Leafing through the file, she soon realised it was an account of everything that had been discussed at the most recent meeting of the Neutral Faction. On its own, that didn't have to be strange, since her father was the chairman of the Faction now and could thus be expected to have an account of the proceedings, but it was strange that he kept this hidden, and that this appeared to be a hastily made copy of the actual report besides.
Almost as if he wanted to hand this over to someone else.
It was just a suspicion on her part, but that suspicion was confirmed when she read the letters.
They were orders, addressed to her father, to gather specific information and drop it off at certain locations in the city. Information that was not supposed to be privy to anyone outside of the Neutral Faction, let alone outside the Clocktower.
The letters were damning, and Ophelia noticed they were all concluded with an order to burn them once Gladstone finished reading them. A very sensible order, which her father evidently hadn't followed.
This was it! This was what she had been looking for! Damning proof, which Gladstone couldn't possibly wriggle his way out of.
Grinning in victory, Ophelia made to gather the letters, before she paused, her grin freezing on her face, as she suddenly realised she might be making a massive mistake.
Handing in these letters and files to the Department of Policies wouldn't just get her parents into trouble, but maybe also herself as well. Selling sensitive information was a crime that could see one's entire family executed, and as much as Ophelia wished she wasn't related to Gladstone, she undeniably was.
If she went through with turning her father in, she might very well be executed herself, or possibly even donated to the vivisection-department, who would undoubtedly take great interest in her Mystic Eye.
She would definitely be taking revenge on her parents, but she would pay a high price for it herself as well.
She wavered, her resolve shaking at the prospect of becoming nothing but a research-specimen once more, but she rallied quickly, trying to talk some courage into herself.
As an informant, she might get some leniency. Lady Barthomeloi seemed to be in a merciful mood lately, so if Ophelia showed how useful and law-abiding she could be, she might allow her to get away with only a custodial sentence or forced labour.
Besides, now that she thought about it, even being donated to the vivisection-department sounded better than being trapped with her family for what could be decades more. At least the Clocktower's vivisectors knew what they were doing, which was more than could be said for her parents.
Ophelia hesitated, thinking deeply about her options. On one hand, she could play it safe, leave, and resign herself to a lifetime of suffering at the hands of two incompetents, while on the other, she could take a risk and be freed from them forever, getting off scot-free if she was lucky, or only suffering for a short while if she wasn't.
It really wasn't that difficult a choice.
She muttered a quick prayer to Thor, for courage and strength, before she grabbed the files and the letters and made a run for it.
This was the dangerous part. If she'd been caught by her parents before she'd taken the letters, she could have claimed to have been searching for some innocent document in the office, or even that she'd been searching for them and gotten a bit lost, and they would have believed her without a second thought. Little Ophelia was a perfectly harmless girl after all.
Now though, with the incriminating evidence in her hands, even Gladstone and Hermione would realise she was up to something, and Ophelia did not want to consider what they'd do to her as punishment.
They already tortured her without mercy when they were in good moods. What they'd do when they were angry…
It didn't bear thinking about.
In the end though, it turned out she'd worried for nothing. Leaving the office was just as easy as entering it, and within minutes at most, she'd found mister Jonah, who was, as almost always, loitering about in the vicinity of her parents' Workshop, looking impressively non-descript.
"Mister Jonah!" She called out to him, noticing how he lifted an eyebrow in surprise at her beaming smile, before she rushed over to him and presented her findings. "I have evidence that my father has sold information to entities outside of the Clocktower."
Mister Jonah's baffled expression almost made the entire thing worth it by itself.
"I love you, Onii-chan!"
Illya literally flew at Shirou for a hug, using her newly-gained power of flight to smash head-first against his chest with enough force that a normal man might have had his ribs caved in.
Shirou easily caught her though, returning the hug with an amused laugh.
"Does it really mean this much to you?" He asked, feeling how Illya squeezed him with every bit of strength she possessed, showing just how happy he'd made her by agreeing to take up the mantle of Rakurai again. "I mean, I don't want to make light of your needs and wants, but why do you care so much about fighting crime?"
"I want to be a Magical Girl." Illya gave him the same answer he'd gotten every time before, though this time, it was said in a voice filled with delight. "I can be a Magical Girl!"
"But why do you want to be a Magical Girl?"
Shirou had long wondered about what drove his sister to go to such lengths to pretend to be a character from the television, but he'd never gotten a straight answer out of her before.
He had his suspicions of course, and his Clairvoyance revealed a number of things to him, so he could hazard a very good guess, but he wanted confirmation, and he wanted her to say it out loud. To make sure she understood why she was going to such lengths.
"Because they are free, and powerful, and they fight evil without having to fear it."
It was a single sentence, and it told Shirou everything he needed to know. He'd been completely correct in his suspicions.
Illya had been trapped for almost a decade in the Einzbern-castle, entirely powerless to do anything to change her fate, to fight against her evil family. To use metaphorical terms, she'd been a caged bird, only able to stare up at an unreachable sky.
In contrast, Magical Girls were always flying free, soaring through the air with their immense magical power, not having to fear anything or anyone as they did as they pleased. Evil had no hold over them, no matter how hard it tried.
When seen from that angle, it was no wonder Illya wanted to be like them, to the point where she'd literally gone down on her knees to beg him to teach her. Becoming a Magical Girl meant the world to her, more so than anyone who hadn't lived her life could understand.
It was another very good reason to pick up the mantle of Rakurai again, even if only for a short while. She was entitled to that much at least.
"Alright." He nodded, letting go of his last reservations. "Let's do this."
"Wahoo!" Illya let out a whoop of joy, her eyes lighting up like a starry sky. It was a beautiful sight, and Shirou was almost sorry that he had to dim that light again.
"Once I return from the Clocktower."
"Ah." Illya hadn't expected that, judging by her disturbed expression, but she resigned herself surprisingly quickly. "Of course. I-I waited so long already, I can wait a bit longer."
Shirou was due to leave in only a week after all, so she understood that he had no time to go out at night to fight crime. There were too many preparations to make, both on his side and Rin's, for him to spend much time on something else.
And vigilantism was nothing if not time-consuming.
Illya was driven and focused, someone who chased her dreams without compunction, but she wasn't unreasonable. She was more than capable of waiting a few more weeks.
"You're going to do more than wait." Shirou wasn't about to let Illya waste away her holiday on anime and manga however, and with a flourish, he reached into the Vault to retrieve a stack of papers. "If you want to be a vigilante, you will have to do some homework."
"…Homework?" Though she'd only gone to school for a little less than half-a-year, Illya already knew all about the horror that was homework. The horror that sapped away her valuable time even though she, by all accounts, already knew everything there was to know after the lesson itself. Much like Shirou, she didn't need to pay attention or do homework to get perfect grades. Unlike Shirou however, she hadn't been able to communicate that effectively to the teachers yet. As such, she was still forced to do the dreary work time and again.
The prospect of doing even more clearly didn't appeal to her.
"Yes, homework." Shirou was unshakable however, drawing a clear line in the sand. "As long as this isn't done, we are not going out together."
"O-Okay." Illya wilted on the spot, letting out a soft whine as she gave him a hurt look, like a small animal that had just had its food stolen by a mean human.
Shirou just rolled his eyes though, as she was making a mountain out of a molehill.
"Cheer up. It's not school work. Most of it is a training programme I put together with Sella and Leysritt."
"Huh? Training?" Illya blinked owlishly, as if the very concept was unknown to her. "W-Why? I am already superhumanly strong, b-because I am an Asgardian, r-right?"
"Yes, but that doesn't mean you can't improve." Shirou picked up a few of the papers, showing their contents to Illya. "Flying for instance. I know you have been getting better at it, but I want you to be able to fly at least a thousand kilometres in one night, because that's what we will be doing if you are serious about accompanying me."
"R-Right!" Illya perked up, the shine returning to her eyes as she realised this type of homework was actually fun, or at least challenging.
"In addition, you will test your stamina and improve it. Going to another city to fight crime and then returning to Fuyuki within the same night is tiring work. I will not have you drop out of the sky on the way back because you exhausted yourself."
"Understood!"
"Most importantly though, I want you to practise neutralising opponents non-lethally. The kind of criminals we will encounter will overwhelmingly not deserve the death-penalty or maiming. Together with Leysritt, you will work on methods to take them down quickly and without grave injuries, preferably without any kind of injuries at all."
"Yes, sir!"
"Good." Her eagerness and obedience were positive signs that he might actually make this work, but Shirou wasn't done with his instructions yet. He handed her even more files, files of a more bureaucratic nature. "Lastly, I want you to read these excerpts from Japanese law."
"Law?"
"Yes, the law. If we are to be vigilantes who operate as closely to the right side of the law as possible, which is what we strive for at all times, we must know that law inside and out. We must know what is and is not allowed, what the police will and will not reluctantly accept from us, and which evil acts that we see are actually criminal and which are just anti-social."
Cheating on one's partner for instance was extremely anti-social, but wasn't the least bit illegal. Punishing such people might be moral, to a point, but was against the law.
"I see." Illya didn't much like reading long and complicated texts, but since this was actually important, she was going to try her hardest, that was evident just by the look on her face. "I'll memorise it all."
"Memorising isn't as important as understanding it." Shirou corrected her, getting a nod in return.
That was good. If Illya really did all her homework properly, both the training and the reading, she should be ready to accompany him as his sidekick when he returned home. He would still have to guide her for a while, to stop her from making the same mistakes as he did when he just started out, but she would have a good foundation to build upon.
Unfortunately though, the homework would do nothing to solve the biggest problem of all.
Her brutality.
Illya had a certain ruthlessness in her, instilled by the Einzbern and still slumbering beneath the surface. She wasn't cruel, but her attitude towards killing and maiming was much more lax than that of a regular citizen. There was every chance she would kill a criminal, not out of malice, but because it was convenient.
On that front, he still had his work cut out for him. It was something that couldn't be fixed by reading texts or training. He would have to see to it personally.
Once he returned from the Clocktower of course.
"I will start immediately." Illya had taken his instructions to heart, and she snatched the files and documents from his hands, before she rushed off to the dojo, calling out for Leysritt as she went.
Shirou chuckled at the sight, glad that his little sister was so motivated and, dare he say it, happy, before he also left Illya's room, to head to the kitchen.
There, he found Sakura in the process of peeling vegetables for dinner, wearing her bunny apron with her hair tied back in a bun. A sight that made his heart melt instantly.
"Senpai." She greeted him happily, with a loving smile, before she growled cutely in annoyance when he wrapped his arms around her abdomen, pulled her against his chest, and kissed her neck. "Senpai, don't! I am busy."
"I am sorry." He apologised, though he didn't let go. "But I just want to spend some time with my girlfriend before I have to leave again. I will miss you so much."
"Senpai…" Sakura's voice softened, as did her eyes, and she leaned her head back against him, letting out a soft sigh. "I'll miss you too. Very much. Do you really have to go?"
"Yes, but it's only for three weeks this time." He tried to console her, but frankly, he couldn't even console himself.
"That's three weeks too long." She grumbled, to which he could only nod in agreement. "I wish I could come with you, like Nee-san."
"You know that isn't possible."
"I can still wish for it. I don't want to be separated from you again." She countered petulantly, before she sighed once more, though this time in resignation. "Though I suppose it is already an improvement that Nee-san is going with you this time, to keep an eye on you."
Shirou wanted to protest that he didn't need anyone to keep an eye on him, but when he remembered the mess that his previous visit to the Clocktower had become, he quickly shut his mouth, lest he look the fool.
"I'm sure she'll keep me out of trouble." He chose to say instead.
"I doubt even Nee-san can keep you out of trouble." Sakura scoffed at the very idea, mercilessly striking him in the heart. "But at least she can be a shield between you and any troublesome women who will try to seduce you."
"Ah, yes." Shirou would like to believe that there would be no troublesome women awaiting him at the Magus Association, but he was realistic enough to know that Sakura's prediction would likely come true. He was a Sorcerer, some might say prime breeding stock, and he knew too much about Magus-society to think that there wouldn't be plenty of women seeking to bear his children to give their families a powerful heir. An unpleasant prospect by any means. "It would be nice if I could avoid that sort of trouble as much as possible."
"Oh, really?" Sakura's voice gained a sceptical note, taking Shirou aback, as he'd never given any indication he'd welcome such attention. "Even if it is your dearest Lorelei?"
For a fraction of a second, Shirou froze in shock.
"W-What?! No, I don't… She's hardly 'my' Lorelei!" He then spluttered in protest, trying to let go of Sakura, but he found himself unable to, as she tightly grabbed hold of his hands, holding them on her abdomen.
"That's not what I heard, when you talked with her over the magic mirror." She turned her head slightly to give him a very unimpressed stare, one that he didn't deserve at all. "It sounded like you were well on your way to seduce her."
"That is nonsense! She is the Vice-Director of the Clocktower! I don't think she can be seduced by anyone, least of all me."
"You underestimate your own power, Senpai." Sakura pointed out, easing up a bit on her glare. "I don't think you are doing it on purpose, but she does care for you, a lot. Even I can see that."
"She's a friend! From work!"
Merely being friends with the Vice-Director was already amazing enough. Shirou could not imagine he'd somehow managed to get any further than that.
"Just like Nee-san was a friend? Just like Ayako and I were only friends?" Sakura sharply reminded him of the fact that they'd had this conversation twice before already, and that he'd been wrong both times. "You are a clever man, Shirou, but your ability to differentiate between people who want to be your friends and people who are romantically interested in you might as well be non-existent."
"…" Shirou tried to protest, but he could find no words to defend himself with. He had indeed stubbornly insisted for years that Sakura and later Ayako and Rin were not romantically interested in him at all, and he'd been proven utterly wrong. It was almost embarrassing how obtuse he'd been.
"We talked about it, Nee-san, Ayako, and I." Sakura continued. "And we think that, if we can rely at all on your account of her character, that Lorelei will confess to you before your next stay at the Clocktower is over."
"No, I don't believe that." Shirou firmly drew a line there, as there was something utterly wrong with that prediction. "I am underage. She is not."
"You'll be sixteen soon, if you aren't already, which is the age of consent in England." Sakura gently pointed out, giving him a smile that suggested she thought he was being needlessly stubborn. "Besides, such laws aren't taken very seriously in the Moonlit World, nor do they forbid an offer of betrothal for when you are of age."
"Marriage?" Shirou had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping at the ludicrous idea. "Me, marrying Lorelei?"
He couldn't even imagine it.
"You are powerful and wealthy enough to make it advantageous for her." Sakura argued, before shaking her head when he tried to protest. "Enough, Senpai. We have no proof either way. You'll just have to see what happens when you arrive at the Clocktower and meet up with her. I suppose it could still go either way, though I am confident it won't."
"…And you are fine with that?" Shirou asked, narrowing his eyes to give Sakura a probing look.
"That depends." Sakura's reply was vague however.
"On?"
"On whether she's willing to share you with us."
"W-What?"
"She is a queen after all, a woman who is used to getting her own way." Suddenly, Sakura wrenched herself loose from his grip, before she turned around and grabbed his shirt, her expression shockingly war-like and aggressive. "But you can tell her from me, Senpai, that I will not tolerate any attempt on her part to push Nee-san, Ayako and me to the side! She will not get rid of us, no matter how hard she tries!"
"…I will tell her." Shirou honestly didn't think Lorelei would try to get rid of the other girls, even if she, by some ridiculous miracle, decided to pursue him, but there was no harm in relaying the message anyway.
"But if she, on the other hand, is willing to share like the rest of us, I'm sure we can come to some kind of arrangement." Suddenly, Sakura's scowl turned into a happy smile, and she let go of his shirt to place her hands on his cheeks. "She is a beautiful woman after all, and she did catch those Wolpertingers for me. If she's willing to peacefully join our polyamorous relationship, please try your hardest to seduce her."
"I refuse."
Shirou was absolutely not going to actively pursue Lorelei. It would be one thing if their bond grew naturally, but to go after her when he already had three girlfriends went too far.
"Coward."
Sakura didn't appreciate his loyalty though, giving him a pitying look that made him feel very small and pathetic.
Now why exactly did that turn him on?
Magi were by nature a cowardly people.
That wasn't an insult. It was just a fact.
There were exceptions of course, famous exceptions, but in general, Magi and their relatives were not known for their bravery or valour.
It was only logical. Humans were among the weakest and most fragile creatures in the Moonlit World. They had no Magic Cores, no potent regeneration, barely any Magic Resistance, laughable physical strength, and mostly lacked any sort of Clairvoyance or deeper understanding of the world, which many other creatures possessed as a matter of course.
In light of all that, it was wiser for humans to be cautious in their every action, it was often the only means of survival even, so that was exactly the approach most Magi had adopted. They didn't trust anyone, took as few risks as possible, profited where they could, and generally strived to gain more power than their opponents by any means necessary.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that caution was embedded in their very culture.
Strangely enough though, most Magi still retained a peculiar, illogical appreciation for brave individuals nevertheless, such as lady Barthomeloi and Shirou Fujimaru, while they generally disliked cowards who managed to enrich themselves while taking barely any risks.
Case in point, the Edelfelt.
For all intents and purposes, the Moonlit World should regard them as a success story. A single family of a respectable age, which had clawed its way to the upper ranks by profiting from every war and battle they came across, while always making sure to stay out of danger as much as they could. A family that basically embodied everything Magi claimed to hold in high regard, with its skilled application of blackmail, extortion, theft, and profiteering.
But nothing was less true.
Most Magi hated the Edelfelt, and regarded them as little more than pests which had risen too far above their station. They certainly did not admire them, and even grudging respect, which other more enterprising families did enjoy to some extent, was nowhere to be found.
Even their title, the Most Elegant Hyenas Above Ground, was the epitome of snide sarcasm.
It was only to be expected though. If there was one word that described Magus-society even better than caution, it would be hypocrisy.
Luviagelita Edelfelt was more than aware of that little fact, and she had long since stopped caring about any of it. Worrying about what other people thought of her was a waste of time and energy, and quite dangerous besides.
Risking her neck to improve her reputation sounded like a good way to die after all.
Luvia had always tried to be a proper, cautious Magus. She had remained in the Edelfelt-manor for most of her life, she had never gotten involved in fights she wasn't absolutely sure she could win, and she made sure never to expose herself to any unreasonable danger.
Of course, the Edelfelt-manor wasn't exactly bereft of any danger either, with all the in-fighting and betrayals, but that was par for the course. That didn't count, so to speak.
It wasn't exactly a thrilling way to live her life, but her caution had kept her alive so far, and that counted for a lot.
But now, Luvia was about to break the habit of a lifetime. She was about to take a plunge into the deep, and see where the current would take her.
She was going to the Clocktower herself, to make her official debut as the Edelfelt heiress a year sooner than originally planned. She was going to take a chance, and hope that she'd be able to profit somehow.
Safe to say, not everyone was happy about it.
"Are you sure this is wise, Luvia?" Olaf asked her, nervously rubbing his hands as they walked through the manor's main hall. "I don't think you should go to the Clocktower already."
Olaf was one of her many cousins, and someone whom she generally trusted quite a bit. Not completely of course, that would be insane, but he was more reliable than most. Not because of a good character or anything like that though, but because he was the sort of man who blindly followed after power.
As long as Luvia remained the strongest member of the family, Olaf would obey and support her. That was a certainty.
As such, she would lend her ear to him.
"Why would it not be wise to go to the Clocktower myself?" She prompted him to explain himself, keeping her voice pleasant and her expression open, so as not to unduly scare him. "As heiress of the Edelfelt-family, I am uniquely suited for the more delicate negotiations that the current situation requires. We cannot continue to rely on Sofia and Eduardo for every problem, issue, and snag that comes our way."
Sofia Edelfelt was the only member of the family who had taken up permanent residence in the Clocktower, now a few months back. As such, she had been appointed as the de-facto spokesperson for the Edelfelt in the Magus Association, aided by her fiancé, Eduardo di Stanza.
So far, Sofia had performed surprisingly well in her new function, rapidly scoring a string of successes. To name a few, she'd made good inroads with the Democratic Faction, secured several important trade-contracts with notable families and companies, and most importantly, convinced the new Sorcerer to sign a treaty of non-aggression with the Edelfelt.
It really was remarkable, especially since she wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, to put it mildly, and even Luvia had been impressed by her second cousin's efforts. Even better, Sofia wasn't the ambitious sort, so Luvia didn't have to fear that she'd use her victories in an attempt to claim a higher position in the family.
"Sofia has performed sufficiently well on her own so far." Quite predictably, Olaf used Sofia's competence as one of his arguments to convince Luvia not to leave. "She has established a good rapport with our allies, and I fear you would only undermine her position if you were to needlessly involve yourself in the negotiations. I might even say, and I apologise for any offense I might cause, that it would paint you as nothing but a grasping lady afraid to be overshadowed by her inferiors."
Luvia stilled, impressed despite herself by the argument.
"You make a good point." She admitted reluctantly. "But I do not agree. It is not my intention whatsoever to undermine Sofia or otherwise impede her efforts. On the contrary, I aim to strengthen her position by directly showing my support for her. Rather than having to contact me all the way here in Finland whenever she has to make a decision or a promise, she can approach me directly or even involve me in the negotiations in person. It will be far more effective."
As said before, Sofia was not the ambitious sort, nor was she a backstabber, so Luvia felt no compunction about working together with her rather than against her.
"But you are needed here." Olaf tried another approach. "Juhani and Aatos are plotting against you, and I'm pretty sure they are trying to sway Mikael to their side. We cannot curb their ambitions if you aren't here to lead us."
"You underestimate yourself, Olaf, and you worry needlessly. I told Mikael to appear receptive to their advances, and he is only following my orders. When the time is right, he'll betray them." She assured him, not worried about either Juhani or Aatos. "I also spoke with my great aunt, and she has promised me to maintain the current status-quo in my absence."
"The head of the family is taking sides?!"
Olaf was right to be surprised. The Edelfelt-family was structured in such a way that infighting between members was actively encouraged, in order to keep them ambitious, strong, and ruthless. Every position in the family could be claimed if you had sufficient strength, up to and including the position of heir.
The only position not up for grabs was the head of the family, currently held by Luvia's great-aunt. She ruled from up high, never interfering in the battles for who got to be her heir.
Until now apparently.
"Great-aunt has also seen that this constant bickering between ourselves is only weakening us." Luvia explained, quite proud of herself that she'd made the old woman see sense. "She'll hold the fort while I'm away. No one will be allowed to take the position of heir from me until I return."
"I-I see." Olaf's expression was a mixture of relief, as that meant his own position was also secure, and frustration, as his arguments to keep Luvia at the manor were quickly countered one by one. "B-But what about yourself? You originally planned to go to the Clocktower when you turned seventeen, to ensure you were of sufficient power and skill. If you go now already, you'll miss out on a year of training and research."
"I haven't done any proper training or worthwhile experiments here in months, Olaf." Luvia scoffed. "And I don't see that changing any time soon. I've been too busy putting out fires at every corner and trying to manage the situation at the Clocktower from afar. There's no more use in waiting. I have to go now."
"W-What about the Tohsaka?" Olaf was now throwing random things at the wall, hoping something would stick. "Don't you want to mount a response after they humiliated us?"
"No, not particularly." Luvia had tried to invade Tohsaka's territory, albeit through hired mercenaries, and she'd been rebuffed rather firmly. As far as she was concerned, that was the end of it. "And even if I wanted to, that is another thing more easily arranged from the Clocktower."
"The Gem-market-"
"Can be better observed from inside the Clocktower."
"Helena's reports-"
"Can be easily transferred to me even when I'm in London."
"Your personal security-"
"I can see to that myself, and I'll take Clown and Auguste with me."
Olaf opened and closed his mouth for a while, like a particularly handsome and bearded fish, before he groaned in resignation.
"Fine then."
He still wasn't happy with it, but he was a Magus and an Edelfelt, so he'd learned to roll with the punches that life dealt him.
"Cheer up, Olaf. Think of what I could achieve." Luvia grinned at him, proudly putting a hand against her side. "More allies, better spells, I might even reach the Root while I'm at it, or befriend Shirou Fujimaru."
"It would be nice if you could." Judging from Olaf's tone though, he doubted she could achieve the latter two goals. "But you're not driven enough to reach the Root, and the Sorcerer is already allied to the Barthomeloi. You're not getting between them."
"Oh, ye of little faith." He was being quite impertinent, but that was how Luvia liked him most. "Just you wait, I'll charm that little Sorcerer in an instant."
Olaf gave her a dry look in response, and Luvia giggled in amusement.
She was of course joking. She knew there was little point in trying to take him from the Barthomeloi, and even if Fujimaru was the sort to fall prey to a woman's charms, she'd undoubtedly have very stiff competition from every corner of the Moonlit World.
It wasn't something she should waste any energy on. She had far better things to do.
"If you want a more realistic goal, see if you can't find new suppliers and merchants that sell gems at reasonable prices." Olaf suggested. "Sofia has done good work, but it isn't enough."
"I rather doubt there are any, but I'll keep an eye out." Luvia pursed her lips, her mood deteriorating rapidly at the reminder that the gem-market was still in absolute pieces.
Gems were extremely important in various types of Magecraft, making them a highly sought-after resource in the Moonlit World. Quite rare to begin with, the available supply had begun to really dwindle in recent years, steadily raising the price, and the fall of the Meluastea, the biggest gem-merchants in the world, had made them prohibitively expensive in a matter of hours.
There were very few gems available for sale these days, all of them costing an arm and a leg, which was another reason Luvia hadn't been able to perform any experiments in months.
Finding a new supplier was easier said than done though, especially since the only family that still sold gems at a reasonable price was the Tohsaka. She didn't want to say it out loud, but reestablishing the gem-trade might be the hardest task she'd given herself, up to and including building a better relationship with the new Sorcerer.
But if she didn't, and the Edelfelt couldn't get their hands on new gems…
It almost didn't bear thinking about.
But again, she didn't want to say that out loud. Not inside the Edelfelt-manor, where walls had ears and every sign of weakness was something to be pounced upon.
"Olaf, summon Mikael, Helena, and Anna. Bring them to our meeting room." She ordered her cousin, putting a definite end to their discussion. "I will give you your final instructions before I leave in the morning."
"…Very well." He nodded, fully resigning himself to her upcoming absence, before he left to carry out her command.
Now alone, Luvia headed for the manor's helicopter-platform, to arrange her passage to London. Once that was done, she'd give Clown and Auguste their marching orders, instruct her allies on what to do while she was gone, and then select her outfit for tomorrow in her private chambers.
It would be the first time she'd ever entered the Clocktower, and she had to make an impression those crusty old Magi would never forget again.
Nothing less from the most elegant hyenas above ground.
As the same time that Luviagelita Edelfelt bade goodbye to her closest allies, preparing them for her departure in way not too dissimilar to a captain briefing her soldiers, a similar farewell-conversation was taking place in the Ryuudou-temple, in Fuyuki, though in a much friendlier and more pleasant fashion.
"So you'll be leaving again tomorrow, my friend?" Issei Ryuudou asked Shirou as they raked the last of the fallen leaves from the temple's garden together. Autumn was now truly approaching its end, and the trees were empty, having shed the last of their foliage over the past week.
"Indeed I am. I have to return to London. The… university has summoned me again to deal with a few… issues that cropped up." Shirou replied haltingly, trying to be as truthful as he could while still not mentioning Magecraft or anything related to it. Issei might know he had unusual abilities, but that still was a far cry from knowing about the Moonlit World and the Magus Association.
"Issues?" Issei lifted an eyebrow at the word, pausing his work to study Shirou closely, as if searching for something specific in his expression or demeanour. "Emiya-kun… This is serious, isn't it?"
"…Yes." The return of Mystery and the fall-out of the Great Purge were indeed very serious matters. Shirou wasn't going to deny that. To do so would be lying, and he disliked lying, especially to a close friend. "It's very serious, Issei."
"Hm." Issei made a noise of acknowledgement, but he didn't seem surprised that Shirou was involved in some kind of trouble. "I suspected as much. You've been tense lately, very tense. I don't think I've seen you this worried since that mess with Rakurai."
"Ha! You are completely correct. Was I that easy to read?" Shirou had become a little more skilled at deception while 'studying' at the Clocktower, as much as he disliked it, but it seemed his meagre skills couldn't stand up to Issei's powers of perception.
"You were to me." Issei's reply was entirely casual, and then the monk-in-training fell silent for a moment, resuming his work as he pondered everything Shirou had just told him.
Not wishing to disturb his mate, Shirou joined him, both in his work and in quiet contemplation.
Tomorrow afternoon, Rin and he would be leaving for the Clocktower, so Shirou was going around today, saying his goodbyes to his friends and family.
Most of them took it very well, with many even complimenting him with the fact that the university wanted him back so badly they'd summoned him before the winter-holidays had even started. Old man Raiga for instance had given him a thump on the shoulder, grinning widely, while Neko, the daughter of the owner of the pub he worked at, had joyfully embraced him.
Most of his teachers had taken the chance to congratulate him, and the headmaster of Homurahara had even praised him for managing to secure a place for Rin as well.
She would be leaving with him after all, in the middle of a school week, and they, that being Shirou, Rin, and Taiga, had seen no reason to use a different excuse from Shirou's to explain her absence. Her grades were beyond excellent as well after all, and even though no one knew that he and Rin were in a relationship, she was close enough to Taiga, his big sister, to explain why he had petitioned the university to let her in as well.
Safe to say, the headmaster was chuffed to bits now that two of his students were off to a prestigious English university, and he hadn't hesitated for a moment to give them permission to leave before the holidays officially began, practically pushing them out of the door.
Issei on the other hand wasn't so enthusiastic that his best friend would be travelling to the other side of the world again for a couple of weeks, and he was even less enthusiastic about it now that Shirou had confided in him about the woes that lay ahead.
Shirou was being sparse with the details, as always, but that didn't matter one bit to Issei. His friend was in trouble, and that was all the monk-in-training needed to know.
Frustratingly though, Issei knew there was very little he could do about it. He had no esoteric powers, nor did he have any desire to obtain them, and he had no excuse to hurry off to London himself even if he did have a Buddha's might.
He was powerless, and that was a terrible feeling. He'd have to meditate quite rigorously later to purge himself of this unbalance.
"I won't be so arrogant as to assume that I can help you in any way." He then addressed Shirou again. "Unless your problem is one that requires an exorcism or a few mantras to solve?"
"I'm afraid not." Shirou huffed in amusement, though little of that amusement was reflected in his eyes. "Thank you for offering, Issei, but it would be best if you sat this one out."
"I'll trust your judgement on that. Will you allow me to pray for you though?"
"I would welcome it."
Issei might not be able to do much himself, but perhaps the gods would be willing to watch over his friend and protect him from the worst of what he was about to face.
It wasn't much, but all bits helped in the end.
"I'm giving you no more than four weeks to get your butts back here, understood?" Ayako practically demanded, getting right up in Shirou's face. "Any longer, and we'll come and get you ourselves."
"Four weeks." The redhead agreed obediently, making sure to sear that into his memory. "Twenty-eight days. Ah, but perhaps you should call me first, before you go all the way to London."
Ayako thought about that for a moment, before quickly exchanging a few whispered words with Sakura and Illya. Then she turned back to him.
"We'll call you once. If you don't reply or don't come back home immediately after that, we'll come to you."
"Sounds good." He grinned, before nudging Rin with his elbow.
"Huh? Ah, yes, that's fine." The black-haired was roused from her last-minute preparations, hastily agreeing with Ayako's demand as well. Whether she knew what she'd agreed to was not at all certain, but the brunette was satisfied with it, for now.
"Good luck, Senpai." Sakura stepped up next, not to make a demand, but to wish him the best. "Stay safe out there."
"Of course." He took her into a gentle hug, which she happily reciprocated.
Shirou was about to leave for London again, resulting in another farewell to his family, just like when he'd left the first time around, right before the summer holidays. There were a lot of similarities between then and now, but also some considerable differences.
Positive differences.
For one, his family was bigger now. It wasn't just Sakura, Ayako, and Taiga, but also Illya, Sella, and Leysritt. Even Caren was present in spirit, though not in body, as she was still held up in Tokyo. Shirou spared a quick moment of sympathy for her, knowing that she didn't actually want to be there and was counting the days before she could return home.
For two, they weren't at the airport, but in the living room of the Emiya-estate. Shirou wasn't going to take a plane this time, blessedly, but rather travel by Bifrost. He'd use the ancient technique to instantly teleport between his home and the Clocktower. Something he was very glad about, as he'd discovered the previous time that he hated planes with a passion.
For three, he wasn't going in alone, but he had Rin with him. She too was going to the Clocktower, pursuing her long-held dream, and even though Shirou had several friends there already, he was still glad to have her company.
Not as glad as Rin though. The black-haired girl was positively ecstatic. She'd been restless for days, making all kinds of last-minute preparations, practicing her Magecraft, and just fidgeting without end as her first trip to the headquarters of the Magus Association came ever closer.
Her mood had been splendid indeed, and Shirou, Sakura, and Ayako had been on the receiving end of more kisses and hugs than ever before, as Rin suddenly discovered her clingy side. Not that they were complaining of course.
In fact, the only reason she wasn't pushing him right now to get a move on already was because she was distracted by her mother.
Since her daughter would be going to London for a few weeks, Aoi had come to say goodbye too, and she was now using every mother's God-given right to embarrass her precious child.
"I am so proud of you, Rin." Aoi had to choke back a few sobs, proud tears streaming over her cheeks as she clutched Rin's hands. "To think that my little girl would make it so far, and so quickly too. Wonderful. Simply wonderful."
"M-Mom." Rin blushed at the unabashed praise, but she didn't look entirely displeased with it. "It's just a quick trip to the Clocktower. It's nothing serious."
"Nonsense! You're to be the apprentice of the Vice Director herself." Aoi would have nothing of Rin's humility though, and rightly so. "You are amazing, and you deserve to hear it."
"W-Well, if you put it like that-"
"It seems only yesterday that you were my adorable little girl, whose highest priority in life was taking care of her plush toys, and look at you now. My cute, powerful, little Magus-girl."
"Mom!"
It was a touching moment, and Shirou had to hide a smile as Rin desperately tried to stop her mother from revealing how adorable she'd been as a child. Ayako had no compunction about grinning openly though, and Sakura looked on with a warm smile of her own, rather enjoying how their family actually acted like a family for once.
Meanwhile, Illya was more focused on the homework she'd been given.
"I'll be prepared when you return." She promised Shirou, her expression the very picture of seriousness and dedication. "I promise. You'll find me ready for action, sir."
"Excellent. At ease, private." Since she insisted on acting like a soldier, Shirou played along, giving her a serious look of his own. "In my absence, you are the master of the house, and I expect you to hold the fort. Make our father proud."
"Yes, sir!"
Since they were Kiritsugu's children, if adopted in Shirou's case, the Emiya-estate officially belonged to both of them. In other words, it was Illya's responsibility to watch over it while he was away.
A responsibility she took most seriously indeed.
"Hey, what about me?" Taiga, his honorary big sister, sounded a bit aggrieved as she asked the question, since she was officially their legal guardian until they became adults and had so far done most of the work related to taxes and other administrative matters.
"Naturally, I'm counting on you as well." Shirou smoothly adjusted his earlier statement, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Please keep an eye on the girls for me. They are capable and independent, but it would be a great relief to know you are there should they need you."
"Aw, that goes without saying." Taiga's frown turned upside down in less time than it took to say it, and she placed a hand on his shoulder too. "Go knock 'em dead over there. The home front is safe. I promise you that."
Her behaviour was a stark contrast to her incessant crying and sobbing the last time he went to London, but that was easily explained by the fact that he'd be gone for a much shorter while this time, and that she'd gotten a little more used to it.
"I wish you a most prosperous time, lord Shirou." Sella also stepped forward to say her piece, inclining her head as she handed him his suitcase. "Please allow me to ask, are your preparations complete? Is there any unfinished business that needs seeing to in Fuyuki?"
"Not as far as I'm aware. Nothing that can't wait until I'm back."
Shirou had strengthened the defences around the city and around his house again, taking special care to make sure no mercenaries or assassins could get anywhere near the Emiya-estate or the Tohsaka-manor. His experiments were safely powered down and locked up. He'd prepared Caren's favourite food and snacks for when she returned. He'd even put several Runes around Mount Enzou, the place where the Grail was stored, that would warn him should there be a spike in its power.
Everything in Fuyuki had been taken care of for now. Everything except one matter.
Arcueid's visit.
After he'd accepted Zelretch's suggestion to tell the Moon Princess the truth of who and what he was, a demigod responsible for the return of Mystery, he'd expected she would be standing on his doorstep well before the holiday began. Zelretch had already given her his address after all, and she didn't seem like the type to procrastinate.
As the days passed and she didn't turn up however, he'd started to get a little concerned. Now that he was about to leave with still no sign of her, he was getting outright worried.
He knew there was nothing in the world that could hope to kill her, but she could definitely be hurt with sufficiently esoteric weapons or abilities, such as the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception. Something that was a real possibility, considering it had happened twice already.
He had seriously considered over the past few days to go look for her, and only the complete lack of clues as to where she could be had held him back.
However, if she hadn't turned up by the time he came back from London, he was going to contact Zelretch, to coordinate a search.
Shirou showed none of his worry on his face though, not wanting to ruin the mood, and he went around one more time, saying his final goodbyes.
Then it was time to leave.
"Bye bye, everyone!" Rin waved at them all as she grabbed his arm, their suitcases at their feet. "I'll see you in four weeks."
"Take care, Nee-san." Sakura waved back.
"Keep an eye on Shirou."
"Make the family proud!"
Shirou waved back for a few moments, and then he activated the Bifrost. With a flash of rainbow-coloured light, space warped and twisted around them, and they were whisked away to England.
For their precise destination, Shirou and Rin had considered Heathrow, before discarding it, as it was too far away and they didn't fancy walking so long. They'd then given some thought to lord El-Melloi's office, or perhaps the Clocktower's main hall, but barging in like that without a warning beforehand was too rude.
In the end, they'd settled on the Clocktower's parking garage, and that was where they arrived only a moment after they'd left Fuyuki.
Divine powers really were convenient.
"G-Gladstone?! W-Where are we going?!" Hermione Pharmsolone panted as they ran through the Clocktower's minor hallways, black spots dancing before her eyes as she was forced to exert herself for the first time in years.
"Parking garage." Gladstone was every bit out of breath as his wife, so his answer was short and to the point.
"W-Why?"
"I'll tell you later. Keep up, Ophelia."
"…" Ophelia had no breath to respond with. She too hadn't exercised in years, or ever really, and she still felt the results of the latest batch of experiments her parents had performed on her.
The Pharmsolone-family, consisting of Gladstone, Hermione, and Ophelia, were currently on the run from the authorities, but they weren't very good at it.
It had been a few days since Ophelia had turned against her parents, a few days since she'd delivered proof of her father's crimes to the Department of Policies, and it seemed the Enforcers were finally on the move to arrest them all.
They must have done something wrong though, for her father had learned of his upcoming arrest well before they had actually arrived, giving him enough time to collect his most valuable possessions and make a run for it.
Hermione was of course confused, but not as much as she should be. She didn't know what was going on, that was clear enough, but her demeanour suggested that she had already known her husband had done something illegal. She had just willingly closed her eyes, and now she was scrambling to catch up.
Ophelia on the other hand knew perfectly well what was going on, but unlike her parents, she wasn't intending to escape. On the contrary, she was searching for ways to delay, to allow the Enforcers to catch up before they left the Clocktower.
Ever since her father had rushed into her room to pull her along, she'd formulated and discarded several plans, before she ultimately decided to sabotage the car when they arrived in the garage. That at least was within her capabilities, though she prayed it wouldn't be necessary.
"Who did you trade with?" Hermione was doing a great job delaying by herself though, wasting valuable breath on demanding answers from her husband. "Those resources, who did you obtain them from?"
"…"
"Answer me, Gladstone, or I stop running!"
"The Dead Apostle Ancestors." He bit out, and both Hermione and Ophelia gasped in shock, neither having realised he was dealing with those ancient monsters. "Now stop gabbing and run, woman!"
"How could you be such a fool?!"
"Shut up!"
It was a full-blown argument, and Ophelia made sure to stay very quiet, allowing them to waste even more breath and time, glancing behind her every minute to see if the Enforcers were catching up yet.
Unfortunately, they safely made it to the parking garage a minute later, where they headed straight for their car.
She fidgeted, ready to throw herself at the engine and wreck it, gathering every bit of courage she possessed, before-
A flash.
An enormous flash of rainbow-coloured light suddenly appeared in their way, in the middle of the garage, and from that flash emerged…
"There we are. That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Sure beats flying for twenty hours."
Two people, both a bit younger than Ophelia, were suddenly standing there. One of them was a black-haired, Asian girl, someone she didn't recognise at all, but the other one…
"Fujimaru!" Her father screamed in terror, and Ophelia's heart leapt in both fright and excitement when she realised her prayers had been answered in the most overwhelming way possible.
The new Sorcerer was here.
"That is my name." The young man confirmed, not missing a beat as he faced Gladstone. "And you look like you're on the run-"
"WAAAAAAAAGGHHH!"
For a moment, Ophelia hoped that this was the end of it, that her parents were going to surrender, but then her father let out a wordless yell of desperation, and he threw himself at the Sorcerer.
Fujimaru didn't even bother to use a spell in response. He just knocked him out with a punch.
"Gladstone!" Hermione screamed as well, looking almost mad with fright, before Fujimaru walked over, slowly and blindingly fast at the same time, and knocked her out too.
Lastly, he turned to her, and Ophelia was almost surprised when he didn't punch her as well, instead giving her a probing look.
She was about to speak, perhaps to thank him, perhaps to plead for her life, but before she could, the door of the garage opened again.
"-You sure this is wise, lord Goredolf? You have had quite the shock."
"It is exactly because I've had such a shock that I need to drive for a while to clear my mind, Tulle. After all that nonsense with Phantasmal Beasts, I want a moment to myself, with only you and my iron chariot to accompany me."
The newcomers were a fat Magus and his Homunculus maid, conversing animatedly as they came into the parking garage.
When they saw the scene in front of them however, they fell quiet, and while the maid took a moment to process what she saw, the Magus immediately drew himself up to his full length.
"What is this?!" He demanded, before he saw the unconscious bodies of Gladstone and Hermione, with Fujimaru standing over them, and drew his own conclusions, pointing straight at the Sorcerer. "Hooligan!"
"W-What?"
"Brazenly attacking the elderly in the middle of London?! Don't think you'll get away with it on Gof's watch!" The fat Magus, Gof, thundered, before he stormed at the Sorcerer, his arms being rapidly enveloped by a silver sheen that Ophelia recognised as an Alchemical substance. "Take this! Gof Punch of Justice!"
His fist slammed against Fujimaru's chin, with enough force that it would have turned Ophelia's head into a pulp, but the Sorcerer simply took it, looking confused at most.
"W-Wait! This is not what you think-!"
"Oh, you're a tough one, aren't you?! It doesn't matter! Gof Punch of Righteousness! Gof Punch of Order! Gof Punch of Overwhelming Violence!"
The fat Magus continued attacking the Sorcerer, who looked entirely overwhelmed by the sudden violence. Meanwhile, the Homunculus-maid was shaking her head in dismay, and the girl who'd accompanied the Sorcerer came over to Ophelia, a wide and amused smile on her face.
"Is it always this lively at the Clocktower?" She asked, as sincere as sincere could be.
"Pfft!" Ophelia couldn't help it. She laughed. The situation was just too ridiculous not to.
Fortunately, the black-haired girl agreed, also letting out a pleasant laugh, and before long, they were laughing together, even if Ophelia's laugh was a bit too shrill.
"H-Hey! Help me out with this brute!" The Sorcerer pleaded, tightly holding Gof's arms, though the Magus had now started kicking at his shins.
They just laughed harder though, and eventually, even the Homunculus maid joined in.
Yes, Rin, the Clocktower is indeed very lively, especially when Shirou is involved.
That wraps up chapter 59. Shirou and Rin are at the Clocktower, and they arrived just in time to stop Gladstone from fleeing. He wouldn't have gotten far even if he had fled of course, but still.
It's a pretty cluttered chapter, a mixture of slice of life and serious investigations, but I hope it was enjoyable still. The coming chapters should be a little more on point, as I can now drop the Gladstone-investigation arc and focus fully on the return of the Phantasmal Beasts.
Oh, and on Luvia of course. She's coming too, in case you hadn't noticed yet.
I won't spend too much time on this arc. Most of the trouble with Phantasmal Beasts will happen during the Grail War, which we are ever getting closer to. Not long now, hopefully.
There isn't much else I want to say, aside from the question of what you all think about Luvia. I already have some opinions, ranging from 'she a bitch' to 'she is misunderstood and actually quite kind', but I'd like to hear a bit more, from whoever is willing to respond.
Oh yes, and Waver's wedding will also take place somewhere in the future, so look forward to that (or not). Furthermore, the big duel between Lorelei and Shirou is also getting closer.
That is all. See you laters, alligators.