Not beta read yet.
This and Fate Coiling sword... Long chapters.
Next update is An Archer's Promise.
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-Kuoh-
“Eh, Seekvaria won the Rating Game?”
Upon waking up from what I could only call a graceful defeat at the hands of the so-called strongest devil of the younger generation, I expected certain consequences. They were predictable, obvious in fact, to the point where I had already pictured the scene in my head before my eyes even opened. First, there was the matter of everyone’s surprise, the part where no one had anticipated me being flattened so easily. Naturally, Rias, Akeno, and the others would hound me with their usual scolding, dragging me through a one-hour lecture about why I hadn’t bothered to use my Sacred Gear, why I had allowed myself to be practically swatted aside without even the pretense of resistance. Then, of course, I thought I would open my eyes to see the news headlines plastered with the face of the latest Rating Game champion. I could imagine it vividly: that smug grin stretched across a face sculpted onto a body that looked as though it had been carved from stone, his victory paraded for all to see.
But no. The reality that greeted me was a complete contradiction to my expectations. He wasn’t the one who won. Instead, the victor was someone I had pegged as a potential fourth-place contender at best, maybe fifth if things went poorly for her. The idea of the Agares heir standing as the champion made no sense. How in the world had that happened?
These thoughts spun through my head as I found myself once again in my own living room, seated comfortably rather than lying broken somewhere else. Beside me sat a raven-haired girl, calmly slicing an apple before bringing each piece to my mouth as though this entire development was nothing to stress over. Akeno rested lazily nearby, perfectly at ease as if this absurd twist in events required no reaction at all. Rias, however, stood apart from them, arms crossed and expression fixed into that of a mother preparing for the dreaded lecture her child had earned.
“That was the semi-final,” I muttered, still trying to piece the situation together. “The moment I lost, he should have been declared the winner. So what happened?”
“What do you think happened? We are talking about my cousin, Sairaorg of all people!” Rias pressed her fingers against her temples, exasperation clear in both tone and movement. “I can say with certainty, and pride no less, that among all the devils in our generation he is not only the strongest but also the most stubborn when it comes to fairness. He doesn’t accept gifts, not when it comes to strength, and certainly not when it comes to victory. His pride won’t allow it. You practically handed him the win on a silver platter, in front of millions of viewers no less. Tell me, how do you think a man like that would react?”
The more she explained, the more the puzzle pieces started to align in my head. Having spent time with that battle maniac, it was easy enough to imagine his distaste. He wouldn’t want an empty victory, not when he lived for proving himself against opponents who gave everything they had. And as though to drive the point deeper into my understanding, Rias added, “Not only did he renounce the title and position in front of everyone, he walked away entirely. He didn’t even bother staying for the closing ceremony.”
“Wait, wait, hold on,” I said, raising a hand as if that would help me keep up. “Even if he did give up the title, even if the Satans permitted it, that still should have meant the win defaulted to either you or Sona.”
“Both of them did the same thing as Sairaorg,” Akeno interjected smoothly, her voice light and teasing as though this was nothing more serious than the weather. She seemed utterly unbothered by the magnitude of the situation. “Besides, we were more worried about you.”
I turned to the crimson-haired heiress with disbelief etched across my face. I had not only delivered the victory into Sairaorg’s hands, but in doing so, I had indirectly passed that chance on to her once he refused. And yet she let it go. “You should have stayed,” I said, baffled by the sheer irrationality of her choice. “Wasn’t it your dream to win this tournament, to finally be recognized as number one? Your main obstacles were me, Sairaorg, and Sona. Without me or him in the way, Sona would still have been tough, but between you and the rest of your peerage, a win wasn’t impossible. If you pushed yourself, with Akeno tapping into her fallen angel heritage, you could have done it. The Boosted Gear has its limits. You could have even used the same technicality I did to force an advanta—oof!”
My attempt at rationality was cut short by a pillow hurled directly into my face. The redhead didn’t hold back her frustration, and though the impact was harmless, the message was plenty clear. I didn’t even bother raising a hand to block it.
“For someone who constantly prides themselves on following logical trains of thought and making sound decisions,” she said sharply, “you can be painfully blind and irrational at times.”
I rubbed the side of my head, conceding the point. “I won’t deny I’ve had my moments. Still, I try to avoid those whenever I can.”
“Then use that mind of yours,” she shot back, with a sharp tone, “and try to figure out why I gave up my position.”
She was really laying it on thick with that angry mother routine, wasn’t she? The scolding tone, the furrowed brows, the way she planted herself like she was about to hand down a punishment for sneaking in after curfew. But I wasn’t stupid. Or at least, I wanted to believe I wasn’t stupid, so I gave her question some actual thought instead of brushing it aside. The answer was painfully obvious, the kind that mocked you for even needing to think. It was because of me. Nothing more complicated than that. Unless I had overlooked something massive, there wasn’t any other explanation to give.
“Me.”
“At least you haven’t completely lost your mind after that punch to the face,” Akeno muttered as she stepped forward and pressed an apple against my mouth.
Her movements carried the casual familiarity of habit, as though this was nothing new for her. In fact, it wasn’t. She used to do this to me often when we were younger. A lot had changed since those days. Even though she changed into what I liked to call a devilish succubus — there were still moments of prior innocence that remained unchanged.
“It isn’t like you to go into an important fight and just let yourself get beaten like that,” she said, her voice carrying a trace of reprimand beneath the usual softness. “If you wanted to lose, you could have done it with Sona earlier. Sairaorg is powerful, I’ll give you that, but you’ve proven yourself plenty of times in the past. You are no pushover.”
Her words were not false, I could not deny them. Every show of strength I had put on up until now had been tied to Vritra. Either I leaned on his power, or worse, let it take the reins entirely. Strip that away, and what was I left with? My most recent self-made spell was a silence field, useful at best for making a library quieter or annoying someone during a lecture. A tool of inconvenience rather than anything resembling power. Sad didn’t even cover it. Realizing that all my notable feats had been carried by a dragon’s strength made me feel like I was nothing more than a passenger in my own body. Not ungrateful, but definitely inadequate.
“We thought something had gone wrong,” Akeno continued, lowering her voice. “We didn’t care who the next opponent was supposed to be or what the rating game meant in the long run. We went back with you to the human world instead. Sona too. We didn’t even ask her why she stepped away from her own match. She just left with us.”
Guilt settled into my chest at her words, a slow heaviness that was harder to ignore than the throbbing in my head. My intention had been simple, if not selfish: let them be worried enough to fight harder when their turn came. That was it. I hadn’t accounted for them throwing aside their positions completely. For Rias, walking away from her match meant turning her back on the most direct path to her long-cherished dream. That wasn’t supposed to be part of the deal. I hadn’t planned for any of this, and yet the fallout had spiraled far beyond what I had expected.
“Why did you abandon your fight against him?” the redhead pressed, those words tone cutting into my thoughts. “Did my brother force you into another scheme? If he did, then I swear—”
“Sorry to say this, but no,” I cut in quickly. “Your brother had nothing to do with it. Well, not exactly. It’s true he’s the reason I even ended up participating in the rating game, but he didn’t play any role in me losing like that. Even if I had gone all out, or dragged everyone else into a full team effort, it wouldn’t have mattered. Sairaorg would have beaten us regardless in the end. Kuroka’s strong, sure, but he’s stronger. Xenovia’s got her holy sword, but she’s not skilled enough to wield it at the level needed to put him down. Kalawarner and Raynare are the same. Maybe we could have pushed him to the brink, maybe made it look like a real contest, but I know without a shred of doubt that he’s hiding something. A trump card. Something that could skyrocket his strength even further and make everything we saw so far look like a cheap firework display.”
I paused, letting the words hang before adding, “He has the kind of aura you’d expect from the protagonist. The main character energy, if you will. I’d never buy for even a second that someone like him could fall so easily. So, not wanting the others to suffer for no reason, I figured I should take the fall as the leader.”
“Still, why didn't you fight properly at the very least then?” Akeno asked curiously. “At least use your Sacred Gear to reduce the damage and still lose.”
“Because I can’t.”
The silence after that statement felt heavier than it should have.
“What do you mean… you can’t?” Rias demanded this time with the smile on Akeno’s face freezing as she gave me the exact same look.
“I can’t use Vritra,” I said again. “At least, not for now.”
The response I got nearly ruptured my eardrums.
“What!?” they both shouted, their voices colliding into a painful echo that rattled through my head. For someone still recovering from a concussion, it was torture.
“Ugh, can you not be so loud?” I groaned, pressing a hand to my temple. “I’m still trying to recover here.”
“If you can’t use Vritra, then what happened?” Rias pressed again, ignoring my plea. “Is it like last time? Why on earth would you throw yourself into a fight knowing you can’t even use your Sacred Gear?”
Now given their reaction to just this single piece of information, I had reason to worry about going deaf if I told them the rest. I took a slow breath, then spoke before I could lose the nerve. "So, you might not like this, but just before the rating game against Sona, I may or may not have gotten kidnapped. Well, technically I was sent somewhere else by a trap set up by Ajuka’s brother, Diodora. While I was trying to figure out what happened, I ended up running into this lunatic who called himself Rizevim, the leader of the Old Satan Faction. He tried to recruit me, which didn’t exactly work out, and while I was trying to get away and find my way back, he launched some kind of attack at me using his words. Whatever it was, it blocked Vritra from me." I said all of it in one breath, already moving a few steps ahead of them and plugging my ears, waiting for the backlash.
"Why the hell didn’t you tell us anything!?"
I was fairly sure even the foundation of the house shook from the sheer volume of their voices. Explaining everything to them properly and calming them down afterward would be exhausting, but that was inevitable at this point.
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Bam!
Bam!
Bam!
The sharp rhythm of a ball smacking against the wall echoed through the basketball. I let out a grunt and hurled the basketball again with enough force to scrape the ceiling, my aim locked on the wasp nest clinging high above.
Bam!
"A hit! You actually nailed it!”
“Amazing!"
“Get out of the way! I don't want to get stung!”
“There aren't any wasps!” I shouted, “That next is empty.”
“Double amazing!”
The volleyball club members exclaimed in unison, their cheers bouncing off the court’s polished floor. I caught the ball as it came back down and quickly snapped open the umbrella I had brought along, shielding myself from the scattering debris.
"It wasn’t anything difficult," I replied flatly, lowering the umbrella as the remnants of the nest dropped. "Though you could have just called the janitor to deal with this."
"We tried, but she’s terrified of heights and couldn’t manage it," one of them answered, her tone half embarrassed.
Right. A school that cost a fortune to build, run by one of the most powerful and wealthiest devil families in the entire Underworld, and yet they apparently could not afford to hire even a handful of competent janitors who could resolve something as minor as a wasp problem. Why wasn’t I even remotely surprised.
"You do know we’re the Service Club, not the janitor crew, right? Don’t any of you have some actual trouble in paradise? A guy you want to confess to? Or maybe girl trouble, I don’t judge. Exam stress, class issues, anything remotely along those lines?" I asked while bouncing the ball lightly, watching them hesitate.
The volleyball girls exchanged glances, the silence dragging out before one of them finally spoke. "We all have top scores in our classes, and it’s not like there are that many boys in this school to even think about relationships."
Another girl chimed in immediately after. "Half of those boys are hopeless perverts, and the other half are either uninterested or already taken."
At that, I felt several pairs of eyes flick toward me. My face twitched despite myself.
"Right then. My job here is done, so I’ll be on my way. If you ever need help with something real, come by the clubroom anytime. Okay, bye."
Even though I had been spending time around them for a while now, I was reminded once again that these girls could be dangerous in their own way. The fact that my relationship with Akeno was public knowledge hadn’t deterred everyone as much as I would have preferred. There were still a few who seemed to view me in a way I found difficult to take seriously. I could never fully understand it, and it was easier to assume that any interest was just one of those mistakes people made when they were young, something fleeting they would learn from as they matured and hopefully never repeat.
As I made my way down the hallway and back toward the clubroom, I slid open the door with the expectation of quiet. Just a brief pocket of silence, that was all I wanted. An empty room where I could stretch my legs, maybe crack open a book, and read in peace without someone hovering over me. That modest dream, however, was instantly crushed. The moment the door rattled on its track and I stepped inside, my eye began twitching. Instead of the empty chairs and polished desk, I was met with a full gathering that looked more like a poorly arranged mixer than a place for rest.
"What the hell are all of you doing here?" I asked, my voice carrying more irritation than I intended.
Inside sat Aika and Asia, which made sense given that both were members of the club. Their presence was not the issue. The problem began with the rest of the room’s occupants. Raynare was there, perched on one of the chairs as if she owned the air itself with her boots on the table — having both her wings out. Rossweisse, the silver-haired Valkyrie, looked stiff as always with papers stacked neatly in front of her. And to make matters worse, there was Riser Phoenix, lounging like he had nothing better to do with his life.
I was pretty sure that black cat sleeping on top of the bookshelf was Kuroka.
"We needed a place to chill, so I came here. If you got a problem with that, then kiss my ass," The Fallen Angel shot back casually and discarded any remnants of her Amano Yuma disguise. That tone really did not belong with a girl with such a soft face.
"U-um, I was only seeking this gentleman’s advice on how to write a proper résumé so that I might find employment here," Rossweisse explained, sounding embarrassed as her hands fidgeted against the edges of her papers.
My eyes shifted toward Riser. The irritation building in my chest doubled. "And what the hell would you know about writing a résumé?"
He straightened, clearly pleased with himself. "As the heir to the Phoenix Clan, my family holds considerable influence over the management of this academy. Since my enrollment, our authority has extended to staffing decisions. Therefore, it is only right that I lend my guidance to ensure that the recruitment process for new teachers is handled properly with the most suitable candidates—"
I stopped listening right there. His voice droned on like a broken record, filled with pompous nonsense. With a sigh, I plucked the sheet of paper from Rossweisse’s hands. Whatever advice he had been giving her couldn’t have been good, and I was proven right in less than five seconds.
A headache flared the moment my eyes ran over the words. "Put on a skimpy suit, apply lipstick, reveal cleavage, speak with a sultry voice, laced lingerie, Devil's… Passion … perfume? Ad wear a costume where the skirt only reaches the upper thigh?" I read aloud, my tone flat and unwilling to believe the stupidity written down.
"Exactly! To make it even clearer for her, I took the time to illustrate my idea using my artistic talents. Do you not see? It’s a masterpiece!" Riser announced proudly.
I lowered the page enough to see his so-called drawing. If I had to describe it, it looked like something scribbled together by a nine-year-old armed with a box of crayons and too much sugar. The figure was barely human, a collection of crooked lines, bright blobs of color, and a skirt that looked more like a torn rag than anything fashionable.
Without hesitation, I tore the paper in half and dumped the remains into the trash can.
"Hey! What’s the big idea?!" he shouted, glaring at me like I had just committed some great sin.
"Sit down," I ordered, my voice carrying a sharp edge, "and don’t you ever give anyone advice again. The last thing this school needs is a scandal when reporters start crawling around asking about harassment claims because of you."
Then I turned to Rossweisse, who froze in place when I pointed a finger in her direction. She flinched like a child caught red-handed with her hand buried in a cookie jar.
"And you," I continued, not easing up, "why do you even want this job? Don’t you already have one as a Valkyrie?"
Immediately, her expression shifted into something pitiful, her eyes swelling with tears until streaks began running down her cheeks. My irritation from earlier evaporated in an instant, replaced only with sheer bewilderment at the sudden and rather theatrical transformation of her demeanor.
"Uuuh… I-I was a V-Valkyrie, up until yesterday! Odin fired me and told me I should go and experience the human world by myself so I can be worthy to be back by his side again!" she cried, her words tumbling over themselves. "He fired me before I even got my end of the month paycheck, and now I’m living off the little money I borrowed from Ms. Akeno after I accepted to help you get better! If I can’t find a job by next month, I won’t even be able to buy groceries anymore!"
To hear a Valkyrie of all things whimper about not being able to afford groceries was almost absurd. Yet, when I remembered our very first meeting, my surprise dulled slightly. It became harder to ignore the question gnawing at the back of my mind: just how exactly did Odin treat his female warriors if one of them had been reduced to this?
"Alright," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose, "before your situation starts sounding like the rejected plotline of some hentai anime, I’ll just ask Sona or Rias to immediately hand you a job. I’ll make sure you get a paycheck in advance and a bonus for… uh, for being a good person, I don't know. Also, just pick a random room in my house and stay there as long as you like. You’re free to use the fridge too but you better not empty it."
At this point, my house was practically a haven for freeloaders anyway, so adding one more didn’t make much of a difference. And as far as calling that mansion mine a harem mansion, that wordplay belonged to Akeno. I wasn’t nearly shameless enough to claim ownership of something that ridiculous.
"Thank you!" she cried out, springing forward and clinging onto my legs as tears continued spilling down her face. "Thank you, thank you very much! I’ll make sure to repay you somehow, I’m in your debt! You saved my life! I’ll do anything!"
"As expected from my rival, you only needed a few words to claim her as your own forever," Riser remarked smugly, his voice dripping with a false sense of pride.
"You shut up!" I snapped, shouting at him as I felt my blood pressure shoot up, my hair practically threatening to go gray on the spot. Then I turned my attention back to the Valkyrie still glued to my legs. "And you—get up already! Don’t use my pants as a tissue. I can feel your tears and snot all over them! I might be financially stable, but these pants still cost a fortune to replace which will come out of your paycheck if ruined!"
As expected, the mere mention of money, she jerked away as if lightning had shot through her. She scrambled back into her seat, where she sat upright like a soldier awaiting inspection, stiff as a statue. For a moment, silence returned, and I thought I had earned some fleeting peace.
Not even a second passed before it was ruined. When I turned around, I caught sight of Raynare lounging comfortably, her phone raised, the faint red recording light mocking me. She was smirking as she blew a bubble with her chewing gum, letting it pop before she spoke.
"Request Club president uses his position to take advantage of a helpless woman. Posted and sent," she said casually, flicking her phone screen with her thumb. Who she sent it to, I had no idea, and honestly, I didn’t want to know.
"Can’t you just hang around with, I don’t know, Murayama and Katase like you used to? Why come here to make my life miserable?" I muttered as I stepped over to her. I grabbed her foot from where she had propped it carelessly on the table and set it back down on the ground.
She looked at me without a flicker of change in her expression. Another bubble formed between her lips, inflated slowly, and then popped right in my face.
"Those two are busy with their kendo training or something. There’s some kind of tournament coming up," she said flatly.
A tournament? It had been so long since I spent time with them that I had nearly forgotten. They had been training for months for this, dedicating themselves while I was busy juggling problems from every other corner of my life. Just one more thing to add to the endless list of obligations I had been stockpiling in my so-called ordinary days.
"You know," she added, leaning back with an annoying calmness, "the least you could do is offer me something to drink. Who do you think was taking care of you while you were stuck in that coma, all because you got one-shotted by a devil of all things?"
This woman…
"Well, what does that make you? When we first met, I defeated you as a human." I shot back.
"You don’t count. Even before your weird transformation, nothing about you was human," she replied, blowing another bubble with her chewing gum. The pop echoed in the quiet room, a small, sharp sound that seemed to dig right into my skull. I had to admit, it was beginning to get on my nerves.
“You really are pushing the definition of being a ‘welcomed’ guest.”
"What are you gonna do? Going to try and punch your soon-to-be queen?" she asked with a smirk that made it clear she was enjoying herself far too much. Considering the role she played during the rating game against Sona, I had already made no secret of what her piece would have been if I ever had my own set of chess-like evil pieces — though Kuroka also fit that role. For some reason, she found that idea ridiculously funny, which only added to the irritation. I still couldn’t figure out why she laughed at it, but the way she teased me whenever it came up was starting to grate more often than not.
"Ugh," I muttered, not willing to let her turn me into a punching bag with her words again. I reached out and grabbed her face, catching hold of both cheeks and forcing her still. My other hand tugged at her jaw, prying her mouth open just enough for me to pull out the gum. The disgust on my face was obvious.
"That’s mine," she said coolly, biting down on my finger hard enough to stop me from taking it.
"No chewing in this classroom," I shot back, keeping my tone dry. "Knowing you, you’d just stick it under the table or worse, under my seat."
She rolled her eyes, unbothered. "If I wanted to get on your nerves, I’d stick it right on your seat so you’d have to deal with peeling it off your pants."
"You’re not going to play nice, are you, Amano Yuma?"
Her eyes narrowed at the name. In the next second, her foot pressed firmly against my chest, she made no effort to hide the way her skirt shifted, leaving her laced black g-string fully visible. A choice of underwear that I fully found to be normal for someone like her.
"Call me that again, and I’ll make your life miserable."
"As if your mere existence isn’t already doing that," I retorted, refusing to look away. "We wouldn’t want someone to end up locked into a contract, their soul bound to mine like a certain Governor General once did, now would we? Choose wisely, your choice."
Her lips tightened, but she didn’t speak. Instead, she just stared down at me with sharp eyes. Her foot lowered, but I let my smirk grow wider. I thought I had won the exchange. That was until she leaned forward slightly, biting into my finger with enough force to leave a small cut. A thin line of blood welled up where her teeth sank in and dropped on her tongue.
"Next time, I’ll bite harder," she whispered. “I'll just bite it off completely.”
"Keep it up and I’ll humiliate you for real by slapping your ass in front of all your colleagues," I said flatly. “Bitch.”
"Whoa, this is intense."
The interruption snapped both of us out of it. The voice came from the side, and when I turned, my stomach dropped. It wasn’t just her. The whole room had filled in at some point, and every single one of them was staring. Kalawarna stood among them, her expression filled with joy for some reason, while others openly gawked with wide eyes. Some were even holding up their phones, taking pictures and videos like this was some kind of comedy skit.
Riser, naturally, took the chance to make it worse. He pointed at me with a smug look and told Rossweisse, "Make sure to take note. This kind of play works on basically anyone. You need to be the one in control, not the other way around. Trust me, I speak from experience."
Perhaps I needed to find another place to cool off. Staying here any longer was only going to drive me insane.
{Break}
(An hour later)
Meditation was not some novelty to me, nor was it a passing trend I had picked up for the sake of looking impressive. It was a discipline hammered into me through different points in my life under the guidance of several teachers, some more tolerable than others. There was the old hag who barked orders as though I had committed a crime by existing, the books I once clung to as a child that taught me the foundation of my first spell, and even people like Kuroka and Sairaorg had stressed its value in their own ways. It was not simply a method to calm the mind, though that alone was useful. Within the supernatural, it took on an entirely different weight. A passage in one of those early books described it as a way to become more attuned to one’s magic, to reach an understanding of both the self and the power within. At the time, I brushed it off as the usual mystical nonsense, vague wording meant to sound profound while saying little. That was until I put it into practice a few times with Rias’s help and found the meaning to be far less poetic and far more practical. Now I understood just how important it was.
There was little worth describing in my inner world. It was not the serene meadow or shining temple others liked to imagine when they spoke about meditation. Mine was pitch-black, an expanse without a horizon, like sinking endlessly in an ocean that had no surface and no bottom. Barely any light filtered in. If someone had a fear of water, this place would be their personal hell. In the beginning, it unsettled me as well. My chest would tighten, and I could feel panic pressing against my ribs, but I had grown used to it. Now, it was simply familiar. I moved through the darkness calmly, heading deeper into that endless void in search of a presence few would wish to encounter. For me, though, he was what I needed.
It did not take long. He was impossible to miss. A titanic, serpentine body lay coiled in the depths, shrouded in a black haze that seemed to breathe on its own. His form stretched out into the distance, too vast for me to take in completely, with a single crimson eye open and fixed on me while the other two remained shut as if in slumber. He appeared at ease, and the sheer scale of him radiated the same majesty I remembered. Relief washed through me at the sight. I had never truly believed I had lost him, but having proof he was still there mattered more than I wanted to admit. It was reassurance that I sorely needed.
“You do not seem to be in such a bad state now.”
“■▅▅■■■ーーー”
The answer I received was garbled, little more than static and meaningless syllables strung together into a sound I could not decipher. It was as though there was some interference cutting through our link, distorting his voice into nonsense. The black haze surrounding him pulsed faintly, and I suspected that was the cause. “I take it this will be a pain to remove,” I muttered.
"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅…"
More incomprehensible noise followed, though his massive head shifted slightly. From the body language of a serpent, if such a thing could even be read, it did not look as dire as I had first feared. “But it will still take time, won’t it?” I asked. This time, he gave a slow nod, confirming it.
“▅▅▃▃▄▄.”
“Not like before, then,” I continued. “When I lost contact but could still access the Sacred Gear. This time it is cut off entirely.” He shook his head in answer, a gesture large enough to ripple the haze around him. The realization sank in like a stone. Whatever that man had done, it was not just Vritra he had interfered with. The link to my Sacred Gear itself had been severed.
“Well, this is going to be troublesome,” I said under my breath. “As if I didn’t already have more enemies than I could count. If word about this gets out, I will not just have people breathing down my neck. They will come after me with spears, eager to skewer me the first chance they get.”
“■■—▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅… ▅▅?”
Another burst of warped syllables came in reply, the sound carrying no more clarity than before.
I let out a sigh. “You know as well as I do that my magic talent has always been pathetic. Ten years, an entire decade of training day in and day out, and what do I have to show for it? A few spells, barely enough to fill one page of a manual. My reserves grew larger, yes, but what good are reserves when the repertoire is so thin? Magic arrow, teleportation, one or two elemental related spells, giant arrow — tricks like those work fine on average strays. Against someone of ultimate-class? They will not even leave a mark. Runes are powerful and useful but they scale with my own ‘level’ you see.”
"▂▂▃▅!"
The noise came again, distorted words that refused to line up into sense.
“Right touki,” I added, shaking my head, “touki demands time and patience in quantities I can hardly afford. I may be disciplined and diligent, but nowhere near the level of Sairaorg. Compared to him, I am crawling along at a snail’s pace. A month of training won't double my powers out of nowhere.”
“■▅▅.”
Even I was not sure if I was interpreting his jumbled words correctly. I was going off instinct, leaning on the years I had spent with him, guessing at his meaning and hoping I was not far off the mark. Judging by the way he responded so far, my guesses seemed to be working, so I kept pressing on.
“Ask Kuroka? You mean with her and Koneko possibly teaching me senjutsu? I can give it a try, but that doesn’t mean I can just ignore touki. From what I understand, the two go together, ignoring touki possibly leading me into a wall sooner than later. Still, if the process takes time, I don’t really have a choice but to refine what I already know, do I? I'll ask them.”
“■…”
What followed was what I could only describe as the psychic equivalent of an eye roll, one made with his third eye rather than his actual ones.
“Hey, don’t get sassy with me. It’s not like I’ve been slacking for fun. Training time has been short lately. At least I managed to put in some effort in the Underworld against Sairaorg.”
“▅▅▂▂▃▃▄▄▅.”
“I’m still counting that as training. You said it yourself before, the best teacher is danger, and you don’t get more dangerous than Sairaorg’s fists. You think I forgot how many times I nearly had my head caved in during those sparring matches?”
“▂▂▄▄▅▅… ▅▅.”
I hated to admit it, but he had a point. The dragon usually did. With my Sacred Gear, I could match or even overwhelm ultimate-class devils, cadres, or beings of similar weight. That power gave me a fighting chance even against monsters or gods who stood leagues above me. But without it, stripped of that borrowed might, I was little more than a mage with a reinforced body, moderate amount of rune knowledge, and enough spearmanship to stay alive. Nothing about me on my own stood out as exceptional. Though against Connla, I did manage to face him through skill alone for a brief moment, I was not sure if that revealed more about me or him.
“Fine, I get it. Until you’re back, I’ll just start another training arc of my own. And don’t act like you weren’t laughing when Sairaorg punched me through several walls. I could practically feel your amusement from the inside.”
“■■■■■■■■!!”
The waters around me stirred in answer, low vibrations rolling against my skin. No words were needed. He was laughing, and the fact that he found my pain entertaining was somehow both annoying and familiar. Against my better judgment, I found myself laughing as well. Even without sound, without hearing each other in the usual sense, we shared that small moment.
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“Wah!”
When I opened my eyes again, I nearly jumped out of my skin. My heart skipped so hard it hurt when the first thing I saw wasn’t the empty rooftop I had been using as my private corner of peace, but rather two enormous blue eyes staring straight at me.
“G-Gabriel?” The name left my mouth before I had time to think. I had almost forgotten she was serving as an English teacher at Kuoh Academy, which at least explained why she was here at all. “What are you doing here…?”
“Watching you~!”
If those words had come from anyone else, I would have taken them as deeply unsettling, maybe even stalker-level creepy. But coming from her, it carried a kind of innocent absurdity I didn’t know how to process. “Sorry, I was just focusing on… something. Did you have anything to ask me?”
Her answer came in the form of physical touch, hand gently caressing his face. The action alone made me shiver with how ridiculously close she was that I could see her cleavage! “I was worried, I'm glad you're well.”
“I'm healed, the Rating Game system helps with preventing life threatening wounds.” I reassured her, “How has life been for our beautiful teacher? I hope your students haven't been causing you too much trouble in class.”
“No, the students are very kind to me! But strangely enough, the girls won't let any boys approach me. Do… do I smell bad?” She asked, the question itself making no sense whatsoever and I even questioned how she came to that conclusion. But her pitiful look and radiating naivety made it hard to look at her eyes.
The light was too bright!
“No, they're just protecting you. Don't mind them, that means they like you.”
That prior look of disappointment disappeared instantly and the blonde gave a bright smile. “Ah, really? That's a relief! I'll continue to try my best as their teacher! By the way, I want to show you this assignment I had planned for the class.” We started to discuss things related to her class, small stuff that were easy to keep up with and where I could give her several pieces of advice to help her get better.
She genuinely wanted to improve and took this role as a teacher seriously. Then again, teaching visibly suited her more than anything I saw from her so far. She definitely was in her own element. As we were talking, the conversation ended up getting interrupted by the sound of her phone buzzing.
“Oh, sorry, give me a second.” I nodded, turning my attention to the sky and cloud gazing for a few seconds, my eyes then closing and enjoying the calm breeze and the wonderful fragrance coming from the woman next to me. Though for some reason, in the following moment I heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like mine.
In fact, the more I listened, the more I recognised those words being uttered were the exact same ones I mentioned an hour ago at the club.
“What?” Opening My eyes back up, I looked down at Gabriel's phone and found myself frozen in place, eyes widening in this belief as the Seraph was for some reason watching a video someone took of me and Raynare earlier. From this angle our position looked extremely intimidating and easy to take out of context.
As for the sender…
‘Aika!?’
When did that girl get Gabriel's number!?
Snap!
“—!”
I nearly jumped on the spot upon hearing that sharp crack, realising that it came from none other than the phone she was holding which now had been split into two… somehow. Gabriel looked at me with a curious face that did not radiate any anger.
Yet I still felt something very off about that mask she just put on.
“So does that mean Hachi-kun likes to deal with bad girls?”
Was it my imagination or maybe I was going crazy or did for a brief moment some of her feathers on her wings shift to black?
2025-08-17 22:14:52 +0000 UTC
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Beta read and cowritten by Gamercrusher55
Next update is snafu in... 5 minutes or less.
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-Wales, Blackmore Village-
(A few years ago.)
Her furthest memories were of a loving family.
She had a father who always played with her outside their house and a mother who was known for making delicious food. The three of them lived out their days happily in their rustic village.
It was not a large town, barely home to a hundred people, and it sat tucked away in the mountains where few outsiders ever came. A trip there took about an hour by bus, making it a quiet and secluded place. The village lacked much in the way of modern technology, but every so often traveling merchants would arrive to sell their wares. Those were the days that made her happiest for there were always a plethora of toys, items and trinkets from all around the country she discovered.
All in all, she was content, with no other duties than to go pray to the statue at the church every day and follow the rules and everything would work out.
Such had been the case for a small, but memorable part of her early childhood. Yet changes showed themselves at her doorstep, in the months when frost still clings to the hedgerows, yet the first snowdrops push through the soil… the exact moment she turned five,
She looked at a mirror and the one looking back was a stranger, not herself.
It… she looked completely different.
She was terrified, as if someone entirely unrecognizable had taken over her body. The memory of her own scream still haunted her, and she could never forget the way her parents had burst into her room, their faces frozen in shock. However, that failed to compare to the reaction from the villagers of Blackmore. For they all gathered around and pulled her close, examining every inch with not fear but hope and awe.
The looks they had given at her at the time had been ingrained in the deepest depth of the girl's mind for how frequently she saw them. The worst being the village elder, that woman couldn’t help but let out tears of joy with a look of elation on her.
Apparently the elder and many of the villagers knew the face that she had.
Come to think of it, at the time Gray thought it kind of reminded her of the face on the statue.
Eventually a gruff man approached her. He was tall and muscly, had dark skin, white hair and beard, wore brown clothes, a cloak made of black feathers, a fedora, and had wrinkles on his face. He looked angry a lot of the time too.
She knew who he was, the village gravekeeper who looked after Blackmore village all day.
Someone important.
“So this is her?”
“Yes,” the village elder replied so excitedly. “Please confirm. We must make sure that she is truly the blessed one. Show how she reacts to the holy treasure.”
A shaking occurred underneath the gruff man’s cloak as if it tried to get closer to her.
“There is no need, this reaction is proof enough.” He pulled out a bird cage from his cloak and set it in front of her. Inside it was a weird box thing with markings all over, the front had a weird face too. When the eyes turned to her she couldn’t help but let out a girlish scream as it spoke.
“Kyaaaaaaaa”
[Hihihihi, just look at you what’s got you all in knot’s brat, is that any way to treat someone you just met, don’t you know it’s rude to judge based on appearances.]
The buzz all around her wouldn’t stop.
“Just look it’s talking, this hasn’t happened in over a thousand years, she must be the one.”
“That means the promised time is finally upon us.”
“To think it would occur in my generation, I can’t believe I’m so blessed.”
[What a bunch of wierdo’s, anyway name’s Add nice to meet ya].
All she could do was stare at the box in shock. The gruff man and priest looked at her with tense gazes.
…
Now as the days went by, the way the villagers treated her were different even the kids her age didn’t treat her the same. The way they all looked at her as some sort of salvation gave her the creeps. Apparently the elder explained that she had received a holy blessing that should never be besmirched — the honor of becoming the next King Arthur.
No one in the village grew up without reading about the story of King Arthur, it was basically mandatory there. The legendary future king whose reign had bestowed peace and prosperity all over the land, who was fated to one day return and repeat the feat.
Apparently, her body's transformation had symbolized her being chosen as the next vessel for King Arthur, she didn’t like it, the way they all looked at her had completely changed, no they didn’t even see Gray anymore, to them she was something else entirely with all recollection of the one who existed before having practically faded from their mind.
It was idol worship.
Gray hated being the idol, no one cared about her anymore, she didn’t want to be someone to be prayed to, she wasn’t anything special, just human like the rest of them.
As time went on, more changes forced their way into her life. Her father was gone. She didn’t know what happened to him, but the answers she received when she asked never pleased her. The fear and sadness wouldn’t leave her, she remembered crying for him so much back then.
All she could think of was turning to her mom. However, said woman always got pulled away by the villagers for some important discussions.
Even the village priest, Mister Fernando, so bald and roundly didn’t really have the best advice for her. Though at least he still called her Gray.
Soon after, the gruff man who she now knew as Mr. Gravekeeper came over to take her. She could still remember how scared she felt when he took her to Blackmore Graveyard.
She never liked this place in the first place, and the fact that there was an actual rule that said you couldn’t come here alone only made it worse. Even now she could feel something off about the air around her, as if something was inside the wind calling out to something. Surrounded by all the tombstones made her shiver, and all she could do was flinch as the man turned to face her.
“Uh, Mr. Gravekeeper sir.”
“The name’s Bersac…Bersac Blackmore.”
“Uh okay, Mr. Bersac sir, why did you bring me here?” She asked, curiosity coating her tone while she tended to the old tombs by removing the excess plants growing onto the tombstone.
The old man took his time at first, but always answered after a few seconds of silence. “Blackmore Graveyard has always been sacred ground to this village, since you're now someone of importance to this village you will have to get used to this place as soon as possible”
“I’m no-not that special. Besides I don’t think anyone should be here for long… Th-There’s something here!?”
Bersac narrowed his eyes. “Do you sense the spirits that dwell here?”
His question only made Gray more nervous and scared. “Y-You me-mean there are a-actually gh-ghosts here?”
His nod only made her more frightened.
She could feel something cold on her leg, she wanted to leave right away. This was out of a mystery novel, it should go back there. Yet unknowing, or rather, uncaring of her current emotions — the man continued to speak calmly. “The ghosts here won’t hurt you unless provoked. This spiritual ground is essential to the village so you have no need to worry, as long as you offer the proper respect.”
“N-no I-I don’t want to be here.”
Bersac took a deep breath and got closer to her looking straight at her face. “Do you fear ghosts?”
Gray nodded her head nervously.
“Good!”
“Good?”
“Being scared of Ghost’s is important as their time has come and past, they should not normally stay in this world. Had you said you weren’t scared I would be even more concerned, having a decent amount of fear is important in life, especially with someone who deals with spectres.”
An… interesting way to explain said matter, not that she disagreed with any of them. Just that the white haired girl was still trying to make sense of things. Trying to stay sane and composed without screaming from fright again.
“O-Ohh.”
“Hearing your answer I can tell it set’s my mind at ease. I can’t leave this job to someone who doesn’t fully comprehend the risks it entails.”
“J-job?”
“Due to the agreement we Blackmore Gravekeepers have had with the village I’m entitled to give you the Magic Crest portion that will allow you to use Add, but that’s all. However your answer has shown me that you are also the most likely individual in the village to inherit my job as Blackmore Gravekeeper. ”
The silence that followed was quite deafening, until her mind finally caught up and she couldn't help but let out a startled shout.
“Eeeeeeeeh!?”
Again, he ignored it and continued to speak. “You will inherit the Blackmore name properly when you inherit the full magic crest, but until then you won’t have the right to call yourself it. There’s also a chance the village will be able to succeed with their resurrection of King Arthur, so I don’t think you should be against calling yourself Pendragon either.”
“I-I can't do that! No… No! I don't… I dont… No!”
Bersac looked at the girl, concerned at her outburst. “You are someone who the village has been waiting for eternity. Not only that but as someone who was raised here, don’t you want to revive King Arthur too?”
Revive him? But at the expense of her own identity, a life no different to accepting a slow death.
The answer itself was quite clear.
“No, I mean I was raised on that story like anyone else, but, but I’m Gray. I’m Gray! I’m Gray! I’m not someone else or anything different. I’ve always just been me, you can’t tell me to just become someone else and not expect me to have anything to say about it.”
Bersac’s gaze fell on her, though through her tear-blurred vision he seemed almost unreal. A flood of frustration surged from her, as if years of suppressed anger had finally erupted. Everyone expected her to transform overnight, to discard the person she had always been. But who, really, was this “Gray” they wanted her to become?
“Child, this might be hard to understand, but King Arthur is… important to the world. When he returns, it could be a blessing. You might think that’s unfair, but life is often unfair, and death can be too. These graves around you prove that. Gravekeepers make sure that no matter what kind of life someone lived, everyone gets the same treatment in the end.” He left her with those words, though his words contained the significance of what these changes represented to these people… she still could not accept it.
“I don't want to disappear.” She whispered again, her voice trembling with tears barely being held back. In her moment of weakness, she saw the man hesitate before he left out a deep sigh.
“Gray,” He called out her name, making the girl turn her attention to him. “Hang in there. I'm sorry, a child like you has to go through this.”
From that point on, one could see that her feet had been sealed. Or at least, that was how her younger self would see it. The duties of a gravekeeper demanded a lot, both physically and mentally taking a toll. Dealing with spirits and the danger they posed while also slowly seeing the changes occur on herself over the next few years.
The people within the village had long since forgotten her true self, none mourned, none cared and none missed her. At some point, she wondered just what her true self truly meant to these people, a means to an end? So it seemed.
Yet throughout all of this, some continued to remember. Bersac called her by her name, the man who had taken the role of teacher and guardian, differed from the people in the village. She found solace that amongst those she considered as family and friends who had now long since forgotten, he remained as the only one who saw past the one she was supposed to be.
He imparted on her everything she knew, the skills and knowledge a grave keeper would need to quell the spirits before they caused too much damage. Keep the land safe, a tradition one could say that existed for centuries, going so far back that even Bersac had little idea of when it truly began.
During her training, she found another hobby in the form of reading some of his book collection. Falling in love with a specific genre of books… detective novels. It was always so enthralling how the private investigators unraveled the mysteries and found the truth — mystery fiction stories that were always so exciting and fun to read.
With Add keeping her company and helping her during her duties and Bersac there to talk to even though he was not good with words… one could say her life had regained that lost stability.
But each passing year, the person in the mirror kept becoming more and more foreign. All semblance of her original self gone, leaving but a few traces in the form of her hair color and eyes.
It would be a lie to say she was not growing desperate to find a way to avert this future. Yet she was not sure how, and lacked the knowledge to try out anything drastic.
That was until a chance to change this outcome came, in the form of two people. A tall, lanky man who smelled of cigarettes accompanied by a beautiful blonde woman who exuded confidence and grace just from her appearance alone.
The man in question became the one who not only helped her escape the village… but also swore to help her find a cure. Becoming Gray's second teacher; Waiver El-Melloi.
The one who hated her face, no, feared her face just as much as she despised it.
A deal still echoing within her mind.
“I want you there because the Holy Grail is a dangerous environment. It's easy to encounter a monster at any point, so I want you to be there to keep me safe amongst other things. To make sure I stay alive.” His request, one that he made clear on several occasions.
And each time she had the same answer.
“Yes, but only on the condition that you will keep hating my face.”
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{Break}
-Fuyuki-
(Present)
“We tried to find a solution but always came empty handed, that is why I need the Grail, not merely to survive, but to remain intact, to avoid dissolving into nothingness and ceasing entirely.”
Minutes stretched on, folding into almost an hour as she spoke, the retelling of a past that Shirou and Rider followed in silence. Neither of them interrupted; they simply let the narrative settle around them. Shirou knew there were vast stretches of knowledge he had yet to grasp about the supernatural world. Having grown up in Fuyuki with nothing more than his late father’s basic guidance and the brief, almost perfunctory training given by Luvia, he had only skimmed the surface of the arcane. Luvia’s gift had been a book belonging to her sister, brimming with spells, most of which were beyond his current capability.
Anything else had remained inaccessible, unless he went ahead and asked Tohsaka for guidance — though part of him just accepted the idea that he lacked the talent for magecraft in general. So, just refining what he already knew was enough. But… all of that really meant nothing against a Servant who blocked his attack as if they were nothing.
Regardless, the idea that someone could manipulate existence to such a degree, to ‘summon’ a heroic spirit from the dead by overwriting a person’s being until even their physical traits began to conform to another, was almost inconceivable. He could not imagine the horror that came with such a process, and he could not summon empathy for what she endured, not truly, because he lacked the framework to understand it. His gaze drifted toward Saber, who had at some point paused her meal, the fork now hovering midair. A subtle play of disappointment and shame had crossed her face, a silent wound that seemed to steal away her appetite.
“You mentioned that the process has accelerated lately. How much time do you have left?” Rider’s voice cut through the room, calm, while Gray merely shook her head, silent in her observation.
“I do not know. It is not a clear-cut answer, whether it will be weeks or months,” she admitted. “Before, these changes unfolded across years. But after the summoning, I fear it may only be a month or two… something like that.”
Shirou could not restrain himself from asking, the words almost spilling out before his mind could filter them. “But how is that possible? If Saber remains by your side, how can you continue to change into her, beyond the physical resemblance?”
“Servants are not the true souls of the heroes who have passed. Those souls remain upon their thrones, while a copy is used as a Saint Graph when the servant’s body is formed.” Her voice carried a subtle frustration, not the overt malice it had held before, but enough to mark her irritation. “What you see right now are not the actual Heroic Spirits, at least, that is what I learned from Sir—uh, Waiver.”
“Do you notice any change in your own personality?” Rider asked a question which he found himself curious about as well.
“I… do not think so. For now, I like to think I remain myself, to some degree.” The response was laced with melancholy, a quiet despair that hinted at truths she had yet to fully acknowledge. The person herself might not realize how much of her essence could be overwritten, how her personality might shift until the transformation became irreversible.
“To add to what I have said, I am not becoming the original King Arthur. According to Sir, it is not a true resurrection, not a restoration of the hero. I am more akin to a soon-to-be clone, bearing her face and memories, slowly supplanting my own. Resurrection of the true hero cannot be achieved without a miracle, and I suspect halting this process would demand another miracle to restore me fully. I wish only to remain myself. That is the limit of my desire from the Grail. If it can return me to who I am meant to be, that would be a bonus, but I do not expect it. All of this relies on my victory in the Holy Grail War.”
Shirou’s gaze flicked, thoughts intersecting and overlapping as he rubbed the back of his head and then the side, a small gesture of unease. The weight of her words pressed upon him, pressing his thoughts into tight, restless patterns.
“Like I said, I have no intention of winning this war. I only wish to prevent a repetition of the last conflict, to avoid the same fates that unfolded before.”
“The Fuyuki Fire?”
The question hung between them, sharp in its simplicity, yet heavy with the history it invoked. Outside, the city continued its quiet pulse, oblivious to the extraordinary threads of fate being tugged and strained within its streets. Inside, the small room held its breath, the silence a companion to the truths being spoken, truths that weighed as heavily on those who heard them as on the one who had lived them.
"Yes. You do not need to worry. I am not going to be the one to stop you. In fact, I am willing to help you however I can. I only ask that you come forward willingly. I do not want this to turn into a bloody fight with others getting hurt just to reach the point we are trying to avoid."
"But my own life is at stake," she said, her voice steady but firm. "This might be my only chance before it is too late. Even if King Arthur had not been summoned, the transformation would have continued. Even if I ordered her to kill herself to slow my transformation, it would only buy me time. And aside from the Holy Grail, I do not know of any other method that could stop it."
Saber did not react to that statement, only listening.
She paused, as if collecting the traces of her memories and experiences. "Sir and I have traveled across many parts of the world. We have searched for hidden knowledge, ancient texts, and thaumaturgy from eras that nearly brush against the age of gods. We have yet to find anything that could truly help. There are other places we plan to visit, and other people we hope might provide answers, but I do not have the time to wait. I am already running on borrowed time, and every day counts."
The redhead remained quiet, really unable to come up with any comforting words or solution outside of the Holy Grail.
"I am not asking you to give up the Holy Grail," he said after a moment. "I just think there must be another way than to fight and defeat every other servant. Because if you go that route, you will eventually have to face me. I cannot allow you to hurt Rider."
The woman beside him chuckled, low and quiet. "You are doing it again, Shirou. It is still uncertain if Saber could even defeat me. Whether that is meant as a taunt or not, I leave for you to decide." Saber, for her part, said nothing, but her gaze fixed on Rider with a sharpness that made the tension in the room tangible.
"There may be a way. I am not certain. I am not familiar with everything that could be done. Waiver might know more, though he has been hesitant to meet you. He even told me to stay away from you. I came here without his knowledge. Now he knows."
He tried to make sense of the warning. Perhaps Waiver had learned enough about him to assume a confrontation would happen. Perhaps it was caution born of understanding that he could not yet see. Either way, it made clear that the path ahead was not simple.
"If you agree not to go on a killing spree and instead try to find a way to win the Grail without having to kill others, then I am willing to be your ally," he proposed, any matters related to the grail… if her teacher were to not have a proper answer then who could help ask?
Luvia would not have more knowledge on this matter compared to a Lord who also happened to be a former Master. Knowing her, taking out Gray from the picture would be a better outcome whether it be by force or a deal. He trusted her as a friend and ally, but her methods and his differed greatly.
Rin? Possibly, as the Second Owner, maybe she possessed some knowledge, for all knew. Bazett was missing and Caster would soon turn him into cinders than help. He rather not confront that woman again, or at least not until he managed to get his hand on her Master.
"I do not want to be your enemy," the girl admitted. "I can see that you already have a difficult road ahead, especially with what happened earlier. Why did you even attack Archer, no, a Servant all on your own?”
She gave him a look that told him everything she thought of his actions. He did not need words to know she found them reckless, even suicidal, and if she ever learned the full truth, she would have said exactly that. He had heard it before. People around him got used to it eventually. This was not the first time.
And then, of course, another voice joined in, quick to point out the obvious. This time even Saber, who was usually the picture of composure, stared at him with surprise. If he hadn’t known better, if he didn’t understand the difference in their circumstances, he might almost have thought the two women were sisters.
“She’s exaggerating,” he said, lifting a hand slightly as if that alone might wave away the accusation. “It was just this once. I only meant to buy some time so the others could get away. Berserker and his Master happened to notice me, and I drew their attention.”
“You faced what!?”
The sharp tone carried the promise of a lecture, one he did not want to hear again. He had no patience for being scolded when the outcome could not be changed. Before the conversation could dig itself deeper, he shifted it elsewhere.
“That isn’t important right now,” he said quickly. “If you want to know why I attacked that man earlier, it’s because of the house. The Matou house. Someone important to me used to live there, and the things she endured inside it… they were unbearable. I was the one who took her away from it, thinking she was safe at last. But recently she went back. I don’t know why. I couldn’t just leave her there, so I rushed over to stop her, to pull her away again. But the mansion was already under attack. I was too late. And when I saw him standing there, I thought he was behind it. I didn’t think. I just acted.”
He stopped there, the memory sitting heavily with him.
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“She really isn’t here.”
Back at school, Shirou had not allowed himself much hope, but some part of him still clung to the thought that Sakura might return to class. Seeing her seat empty pushed that hope further from reach. Her absence weighed on him more than he wanted to admit.
“Rider,” he asked quietly, “can you track another Servant?”
“I can sense their presence if they are close and not trying to hide,” Rider answered. “But finding Archer is different. If he is anywhere in the city, and he chooses to conceal himself, then no. That is not something I can do.”
So that path was closed. He thought about the city stretched before him, about how far he was willing to go. If it came to it, he would drive every road in Fuyuki, turn every corner, and keep going until Rider caught even the faintest trace.
“Do not trouble yourself too much,” Rider said. “I do not think Sakura has come to harm.”
“What makes you so sure?” he asked.
“Think back to Archer’s words before he left us,” she replied. “We may not trust him, but considering this, he had no reason to lie about her. If anything, it seems likely Sakura was the one who summoned him, or that she had some part in it.”
“Then why stay away? Why not meet us?” The question left him more confused than before.
“I cannot answer that,” Even his Servant found herself incapable of answering that question after a moment. “But I can guess. Perhaps she cannot join us because of her circumstances. Or she chooses to remain apart, to shield us. From Zouken, or from whoever struck the mansion.”
Shirou had not forgotten the attacker. Even now the thought lingered, steady and unresolved. Missiles had rained across the city, tearing apart streets and homes in a way he could not easily process. Even though most of the destruction had centered on the Matou estate and its surroundings, the damage had spread. People had died. He tightened his hand into a fist at the thought of it.
“Do you think it was a Servant?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I think it unlikely. The weapons were modern. While there are Heroic Spirits from later eras, none come to mind who would fight with such technology. It feels more like a human hand was behind it.”
So not a Servant, then? That much seemed certain, though certainty was a fragile thing these days. Too many questions lingered without answers, and the hours slipped away before he could even form the right ones. The only reasonable conclusion was that Sakura knew who this mysterious person was, and that she had chosen, for her own reasons, to deal with them before they appeared openly. Why she had decided on that course he could not guess. He might have been able to help her, to share the burden, yet she had walked another road without his counsel.
More troubling still, no news of the attack had surfaced. In a world so wired together, disaster usually travelled faster than wind, yet this calamity had been swallowed whole. The people of the town, who had seen fire and heard the thunder of the explosions, were given only a single flimsy explanation. The broadcasts repeated the story without pause: a malfunctioning satellite had fallen from orbit, striking near the town and sparking a chain of ruptured gas lines, which in turn caused the devastation. The excuse was absurd to anyone with a working mind, yet the public accepted it.
Whoever was behind this cover up did an excellent job keeping all of this under wrap this efficiently, he had to admit.
“Maybe I really need to find Rin and ask her directly,” he murmured aloud.
“Ask Rin what?”
The voice startled him. So lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed the girl with the broad smile near, her steps quiet across the empty courtyard. He had sought this place precisely because it was empty, hoping for a scrap of peace to untangle his mind.
“Saegusa?” he asked, blinking at her presence. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with your friends?”
The girl tilted her head slightly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. Her usual trio was nowhere in sight.
“Is there something I can help you with?” he added, genuinely puzzled.
“Not really,” she said, her tone mild. “I was just passing through and noticed you here. It’s unusual, seeing you off in a corner like this. Normally you’re with Emiya or busy fixing those relics the school still calls air conditioners.”
He let out a quiet chuckle, it had indeed been a while since he fixed one of those machines. The thought of slipping back into the role of unpaid janitor might have once been comforting, a distraction to keep his hands busy, but right now he lacked even that resolve.
“Nothing important,” he replied. “Just turning over a few thoughts about work and the upcoming exams. And I don’t need to tinker with those air conditioners anymore, thankfully. They broke down so often that even Issei grew tired of sending me patching them up. So he told the administration to replace them by the end of the month.”
Her brows rose. “He can do that?”
“Not really,” he admitted with a crooked smile. “He is still only a student, not like that has ever stopped him. He told them if they didn’t replace the units, he’d forbid me from repairing them any further. Then send a formal complaint to the Ministry of Education, complete with photographs and recordings showing how often I was forced to take the janitor’s job upon myself.”
Her mouth fell open slightly. “He actually said that?”
The redhead nodded. “He meant it, too.”
Issei could be really scary when he wanted to and more efficient than anyone he knew just to get results. Most likely why he found Rin so difficult to deal with, for he most likely tried to expose her but always failed.
For a moment, Saegusa seemed caught between disbelief and admiration. The notion of a student defying the administration with such boldness wasn’t something easily imagined, but then again, Issei had always been capable of results when he put his mind to it.
“The student council president is frightening when he wants to be,” she said softly.
“Well, he’s earned the students’ trust,” he answered. “Reliable, steady. You can always count on him.”
She gave a small nod of agreement. Looking at her, he realized this was perhaps the longest conversation they had ever shared. At school they rarely exchanged words beyond a polite greeting. Outside the building’s walls, their paths almost never crossed. He would sometimes catch glimpses of her with her friends or walking with Ayako, and nothing more.
“But aside from that,” she said suddenly, her eyes glinting with quiet mischief, “you didn’t really have to lie about why you’re out here.” She chuckled softly behind her hand.
“What do you mean?” he asked, wary of the look she gave him.
“You don’t have to hide it. It’s perfectly fine to spend time with your secret foreign girlfriend. You should probably pay her more attention, though. And tell her to ease up on that strange cosplay of hers. Both of you stand out so painfully that other students have to pretend they don't notice you.”
“...”
“... What?”
The word slipped out before he could catch it. For a heartbeat, the world itself seemed to hesitate, his mind freezing in place as though struck by a sudden blow.
“Girlfriend?” he repeated, stunned.
The brunette pouted at his genuine confusion. “You don’t have to act like that in front of me. I’m not an idiot, and I promise I can keep secrets! Oh, also, nice to meet you again, miss. My name is Saegusa. I’m from the second year. Nice to meet you! What’s your name?”
Much to his disbelief, she was indeed speaking to Rider, and he had not imagined it. The blindfolded woman did not even seem surprised that the girl could see her. Instead, she inclined her head with a small, amicable smile that softened her otherwise striking features.
“Nice to meet you. You can call me Rider.”
“Rider? Wow, that’s a beautiful name. It sounds exotic. Are you from America?”
“No. I am from Greece.”
“Greece! I always wanted to go there!” her eyes lit up. She leaned closer, her words spilling out in an unending stream. “Tell me, what is your relationship with Emiya? I saw you two together last time, but for some reason everyone ignored you. They probably thought you were one of the students cosplaying, but I kept insisting you weren’t. Then, when I brought it up later, no one even remembered that day anymore. So is it true? Are you in a relationship?”
Her questions came like a gatling gun, rattling one after another with the wild energy of an overexcited rabbit. Her enthusiasm stood in sharp contrast to the chaotic storm within him as he tried to make sense of what he was witnessing.
“How is this possible?” he muttered under his breath, but neither of them seemed to hear, or if they did, they paid him no attention. Rider’s voice cut through, calm and steady.
“Shirou and I, you could say, have a… close, very close connection. He is my Master, and I am his Servant.” He choked a bit at her answer, wondering why did she have to say it and worst of all, phrase it like that!
The words landed like a thunderclap to the short haired school girl, she snapped her head toward him, her disbelief plain. “What!? A Master? A Servant? Wait a minute…” her thoughts tumbled into half-formed accusations and incredulous doubt.
Saegusa’s cheeks flamed crimson. She slapped her hands to her face as if the very thought embarrassed her beyond measure. “You’re actually into that stuff!? I don’t even know how to react to this! I should go tell Ayako!”
“No, wait!” Panic gripped him. If this spiraled further, things would slip out of control. He had to stop her, clarify matters, and handle the situation before it ran wild. For a fleeting moment he cursed himself for never putting effort into mental interference magecraft. If he had started years ago, maybe by now he could have reached a level of basic proficiency, enough to nudge her perception. But the chance was long gone, and all he had was his tongue.
“No! It’s nothing like that,” he said quickly, forcing steadiness into his voice. “Rider is just teasing you! She’s a friend of my father, here only to talk with me because there’s nothing to do at home. She isn’t my girlfriend!”
Rider tilted her head, the faintest trace of playfulness curling her lips. “So you have been deceiving me this entire time, Shirou? How hurtful… you said you'd even die for me.”
She spoke with an airy mockery, but even through the blindfold there seemed to be a depth of wounded expression, carefully feigned yet convincing enough to fool the untrained eye. Saegusa turned on him at once, glaring with open disapproval.
“You shouldn’t do that! Even if you’re shy or don’t want to make a relationship public, that is no excuse to hurt a young woman’s heart, especially one as pretty as her! Apologize to her right now, Emiya.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I won’t leave this place, and neither will you, until you do so.”
Her stubbornness was immovable, and he knew it. With a weary roll of his eyes, he gave in. Turning to Rider, he offered her a reluctant, frustrated look. She met it with amusement, a mischievous smile tugging faintly at her lips.
Knowing when he was fighting a losing battle, especially against two women, the boy did not fight back any longer. “I am sorry.”
That only made Rider's smile grow, she was having fun at his expense! “I’m glad to hear that. I accept your apology… but there won't be a next time.”
"You sure are having quite a bit of fun at my misery. Are you not afraid I'll return the favor!" He complained at the brunette, who giggled, lips curling in a mischievous grin as if she had been waiting for this moment.
"Hehehe, sorry about that. I couldn't help myself. Still, you’re lucky to have someone so pretty. I’ve never seen hair that soft on anyone else. It looks like strands of silk. But what’s with the blindfold, really? Is she cosplaying as a game character?"
Shirou felt his throat tighten. Once again he had been pushed into a corner, needing to cover Rider’s presence without drawing suspicion. His mind raced for an excuse that sounded natural enough to pass.
"You see, Rider’s eyes are actually quite sensitive to sunlight. Usually she wears glasses but they broke recently, so now she wears this during the day to keep herself safe. As for the outfit… uh… that's what they wear in Greece?" It was so bad that he himself could point out the obvious from a mile away and recognise how all of this sounded made up.
But somehow, things did not go the way he thought they would.
"Oh, so that’s it. I’m sorry to hear that. I hope it gets better for her," the girl said before the bell rang through the halls. She straightened her bag with a little bounce. "Ah, looks like classes are starting soon. I should be going. Take care, Shirou! You too, Rider!"
He stood there for a moment, eyes following her until she turned the corner. His faint smile drained away, leaving his face drawn and tense. He turned sharply toward Rider, searching her veiled features as if demanding an answer that refused to surface. She only gave the smallest shrug before speaking.
"It is very likely she possesses a form of Mystic Eyes, one that allows her to perceive spiritual beings like Servants. Rare, but not impossible."
"So hiding from her is pointless?" he asked, voice carrying more worry than he meant to reveal.
"Not pointless. Only more difficult," Rider replied in her calm way. "From what I can tell, she knows nothing of the supernatural world. At most she might confuse another Servant for someone unusual, but not more than that. Her sight gives her awareness, not understanding."
"Then why didn’t you tell me sooner? You’ve been by my side since I started school. You had to know she could see you."
"I forgot," she said simply.
He frowned. There was more to it, he was certain, but Rider offered no explanation.
"You’re not planning on asking her to help us track Archer, are you?"
His body stiffened at the suggestion. He turned away and let out a long breath. "I can’t. It would put her in danger. I won’t deny the thought came to me, but involving her would be reckless."
"The choice is yours," Rider answered.
Shirou let the silence sit for a moment before nodding. The idea tugged at him, but the risk was too high. Saegusa was an ordinary student, untrained and unprotected. Involving her could end like Ayako, who had once nearly stumbled into disaster because of him. Even if Bazett would only erase her memories, Shirou could not gamble on other magi in the city. Some would kill without hesitation.
"I’ll avoid her as best I can. Let’s head back," he said at last. His plan hadn’t changed—Rin remained the only lead if he wanted answers about Archer.
The hours that followed slipped by in a blur. Classes dragged on without weight, the lessons passing unheard while his mind circled the same plans over and over. By the time he noticed the day had ended, the sky was already tinted orange and the halls emptied with the sound of students heading home.
Issei had duties waiting at the temple, which left Shirou free sooner than usual. He was already turning his thoughts toward finding Rin when the warning in his body reacted all at once.
“—!”
His instincts screamed, pulling him aside just as a streak of red light tore through the air. It carved into the wall beside him, sending dust and fragments scattering.
"Rin!? What are you doing!?" Shirou shouted, shock plain in his voice.
Across the courtyard, Rin stood with one arm raised. Her hand shaped like a finger gun, a glow of red light gathering at her pointed finger. Her face was set, eyes fixed straight on him. “Hey there, Emiya… You've got quite the nerves coming here today, is this supposed to be some sort of provocation?”
“What?”
“You wouldn't happen to know where Sakura is, right?” She asked with a scary smile on her face. Just now he planned to find her and discuss this matter exactly, but he did not expect for her to come to him in such a manner.
“Actually, I wanted to discuss this matter with you, someone is after her and I need your help to deal with this matter as soon as possible.”
“Oh really?” Slowly but surely, the smile on her face died down before being replaced by a cold gaze looking right at him. “Don't take me for a fool. It is mighty convenient that during our last conversation you forgot to mention that your father was the Magus Killer.”
"..."
Oh… now her reaction makes sense.
“Watch out, Shirou!” Rider appeared in front of him right in time to deflect and attack from another being, the sound of steel meeting steel followed by sparks flying in the air. Both people jumped back behind their respective masters with Shirou’s eyes immediately zeroing on the blood crimson eyes and crimson spear held firmly by the blue haired man.
Another Servant.
“I didn't mean to hide it from you, Tohsaka. But this is not the right time to bring this matter up, we can discuss this another time. We have more important matters to deal with.”
Perhaps his choice of words were not the best, for her eyes narrowed and the servant behind her even shook his head as if to pity him.
“So the death of my father and the fall of my family by the hands of your father is not that important huh… now Sakura also got involved. You won't get away from me without answering a few questions.” On cue, Lancer brandished his spear and walked in front of her.
“Hey kid, I'd advise you to listen to the little miss over here. She's been pretty pissed since the attack.”
Yeah, he could clearly see that.
Damn it, fighting was really the last thing he wanted to do now.
Not beta read yet.
Small Author's note
2025-08-15 13:54:57 +0000 UTC
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Partially Beta read by Paragon of Awesomeness.
2025-08-10 19:39:45 +0000 UTC
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Beta read by Shigiya and Darklord331
Long chapter, even without the lemon it's longer than your average chapter... Yes, I wrote nearly 20k words if we take into account both the Nanoha and Broly chapters.
Yes, there is a lemon, finally, it only took... *Checks number* +50 freakin chapters. Added signs on where it starts and ends.
Me super tired.
Next update is either Hound or Steel Eyed Faker.
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-Magnolia-
-Magnolia-
"Urgh, cleaning up the town is going to take forever," Lucy muttered, drawing in a long breath as the heat and effort caught up with her. Sweat traced its way down her temples, her arms, and her back, aching from hours of sweeping the streets and, of course, pooled beneath the two ridiculous, massive spheres jutting from her chest, but that’s something she’s gotten sorta used to ever since she got them. Every muscle in her body ached, throbbing with the soreness of hours spent sweeping streets. "Just how much progress have we made this whole time? I don’t think we’ve even managed to clean half of a single street."
After the recent attack and Fairy Tail’s hard-fought victory in pushing back the dark guild, both the members of Fairy Tail and the citizens of Magnolia threw themselves into the task of restoring the town. Thankfully, the damage wasn’t so widespread that the entire city had fallen into ruins. Most of their efforts were focused on the areas that had been struck directly during the battle.
"Here, let me help," Loke offered, stepping in to take the broom from her. Lucy allowed him to take over, sighing in relief and dropping to the ground until she was lying flat, arms and legs stretched out like a starfish. Her hair spread messily over the dusty pavement, and she didn’t even care. Loke gave a small laugh at the sight. "It’s not that bad. With Master and every mage in the guild helping, this will only take a week at most. We’ll be back in business like nothing ever happened."
"Ugh… I guess I can’t complain," Lucy admitted with a groan. "Part of it was technically my fault. I should have known what would happen when I summoned Aquarius. I should have realised before calling her out."
"You can’t blame yourself," Loke replied firmly. "If it hadn’t been for you, the damage could have been far worse. The mages from the dark guild might not have been stopped in time."
"You’re telling me a few mages would have done less damage than a celestial spirit summoning a literal tsunami that flooded an entire section of the town?" she shot back, one eyebrow raised. That earned nothing more than an awkward chuckle from Loke, who decided it might be safer not to answer.
Letting her gaze wander absently to the sky, Lucy spotted Broly in the distance, soaring through the air with ease while carrying enormous piles of stone, each easily ten times his size. The sight would have been ridiculous to anyone else, but she had grown used to such feats from someone like him. He looked like a man hauling mountains as though they weighed nothing.
"It’s still unbelievable that he managed to defeat Precht," Loke remarked suddenly, pulling Lucy’s attention back down to him. She blinked at him, clearly caught off guard by the name.
"The master of Grimoire Heart," Loke clarified after seeing Lucy’s quizzical expression. "I heard Broly talking about him once. If I heard right, he was, unbelievably, also a former master of Fairy Tail."
"What!?" Lucy nearly dropped her broom at the revelation. "A master of Fairy Tail became the leader of one of the biggest dark guilds in the world?" The idea seemed absurd. Someone who had once led a guild like Fairy Tail, with its bonds and ideals, should never have been associated with such a thing. Granted, she knew very little about those who had come before Makarov, aside from Mavis, who was the most famous, but still—this was shocking news. "Did he come for revenge?"
"I don’t think so," Loke said, shaking his head. "From what I understand, the second master, Precht, never had any grudges against the guild or its members. He left on friendly terms to wander the world. There was no bad blood at all. That’s why his actions now are just as shocking to me as they are to anyone else. I can only imagine what Makarov must be going through. He’s probably beating himself for not noticing the signs earlier, for not stepping in to prevent this from ever happening."
"Have you seen him before? The second master before he turned evil, I mean?" Lucy asked at last. Now that she thought about it, the way Loke spoke gave her the strange impression that he might have known the man personally. That couldn’t possibly be the case, she knew well enough that the second master had left decades ago, and the orange-haired mage in front didn’t seem anywhere near that old. Unless, of course, he was using magic to keep his appearance youthful, which wasn’t exactly beyond the realm of possibility.
"No, not personally," he replied. "But I’ve heard about him plenty of times in the past. He used to have a solid reputation, despite being the most mysterious of the bunch. Not much is known about him, except that he was always deeply curious about magic and constantly sought to learn more and more. I suppose it was a matter of time before his insatiable desire for knowledge eventually led him into extreme places that warped his mentality. Unfortunately, that’s the price humans often pay when they reach for a source of power they were never meant to learn about."
For a moment, Lucy simply stared at him. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was something about the way he spoke now that felt… off. It was enough for her to say something. "You know, even though we don’t talk much and you tend to be annoyingly flirtatious with every woman you meet, right now you sound like an old man. In my opinion, it actually suits you better. Makes you more approachable and less of a womanizer."
Loke froze at that, her words hanging in the air a moment, before he let out a low, almost rueful chuckle and went back to sweeping the street. “Is that how you think of me? Well, I suppose I do have my moments. But I’m not really that old. There are plenty out there, much older than me.”
She watched him for a beat, then narrowed her eyes slightly, as if weighing something in her mind. “This might be as good a time as any to bring this up,” she said, “but are you… perhaps familiar with Aquarius?”
“What?”
That got him. The reaction was instant; he flinched, his face turning away from her, like he didn’t want her to catch even the faintest trace of what he was feeling.
"I’m just saying," she continued, "on our way back and even before that, it felt like Aquarius was watching you. And every time she did, you’d avoid being near her."
"Well, that’s to be expected," Loke said lightly, a smirk playing at his lips. "If a beautiful woman of her calibre stared so intently at a young man like me, even I’d find it difficult to keep my composure."
"Urgh, you’re doing it again. Just act normal for once," Lucy groaned. "And don’t dodge the question. I’ve known Aquarius for a very long time; in fact, it wouldn’t be a lie to say I’ve known her my entire life. She never looks at someone twice unless she either knows them, wants to kill them, or if it’s Broly. And she glanced at you more than twice. So there’s definitely something between you two."
"Sorry," the man said at last, his tone carrying a hint of sincerity. He stepped toward a collapsed wall, braced his shoulders, and with some effort managed to push the rubble off the street before breaking it apart into manageable pieces for removal. "I know it may sound ridiculous, given she’s been with you all your life, but the truth is, she and I have actually worked together in the past."
"What!?" Lucy shot upright, eyes wide in disbelief. Surely she had misheard him. As far as she knew, only a single set of golden keys existed in the entire world, with no duplicates whatsoever. And the only one who had ever held the Key of the Gate of Pisces had been her mother. If Loke was telling the truth, then that meant he had met her mother more than a decade ago.
Her earlier suspicion about him using magic to appear younger, though at being a joke, began to seem far less far-fetched to her now if what Loke said is true. “Seriously… Just how old are you?”
“Hahaha!” he laughed, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, that is a secret I’ll be keeping to myself. We can’t have my age being leaked, or all the beautiful ladies in Magnolia might lose interest in me. But I assure you, I’m not using any magic to keep myself looking young. I just happen to possess supernatural genes that let me keep this youthful charm far longer than the average person.” He struck a pose, smirking in her direction, an action that only made her roll her eyes.
“You really remind me of those Blue Pegasus trio.”
“How hurtful,” he replied in mock offense.
It was obvious to her that he was hiding something. Lucy wasn’t foolish enough to take his words at face value, yet she wasn’t the type to force an answer from someone unwilling to give it. They were guildmates after all, and he had helped her during the battle, so she owed him some leeway. Still, perhaps asking Aquarius directly might lead her somewhere. Given that she was now spending time around Broly, she was bound to be less irritable than usual and possibly more agreeable. Lucy wondered if she could use that to her advantage to uncover what was truly going on.
“Lucy!”
Pulled from her thoughts, she heard Happy’s voice calling from above and looked up to find the blue-furred cat flying alongside Mirajane. The pair were carrying several items — a towel, a chilled bottle of water, and even some snacks. The townsfolk immediately became more cheerful at Mirajane’s presence alone, visibly invigorated to work harder. The way she encouraged them, striking a friendly pose here and there, certainly helped lift their spirits.
“Here, Mirajane told me to give this to you,” Happy said as he handed the bottle of water to Lucy and passed another to Loke, who accepted it with a pleased grin.
“Hah, this is heavenly. Just what I needed.”
“Hehehe, just don’t drink too much or you’ll pee your pants,” the cat teased.
“Shut it, cat! I’m not going to do something like that just because I drank an entire bottle of water!”
“Wah! Mirajane, Lucy is bullying me again!”
“What do you mean by bullying you?! And again?! You’re the one that keeps bad mouthing me you flying hair ball!” she shouted back, already swearing to herself that one way or another, she would get back at that cat and have her revenge.
Mirajane, however, seemed more entertained than concerned. She gave Happy only the lightest scolding before sending him off.
“You need to be stricter with him, Mira. Otherwise, it will only embolden him in the future.”
“Happy is just trying to lift your mood with some ribbing,” Mirajane said kindly. “He doesn’t mean any harm. He’s incapable of such a thing, I assure you.”
With such an angelic expression directed at her, the blonde found it impossible to stay annoyed and simply turned her head away, grumbling softly at how unfair it was that Happy could get away with so much simply by being an adorable cat.
If given the chance, she wouldn’t mind having Taurus punting into the outskirts of the town.
“I’m glad to see you’re helping with the town’s restoration efforts,” Mirajane went on. “You didn’t have to. You must be exhausted from the fight.”
“It wouldn’t feel right to rest while others are still working,” Lucy replied. “Even those who fought are helping, and besides, I’m quite durable. Opening a few gates — even the golden ones — all in one day won’t completely drain me. I can still keep going. I just needed a few minutes to rest and loosen my muscles.”
“Noodle arm Heartfilia—ah!”
Happy’s taunt was cut short when an empty plastic water bottle smacked into his head, sending him tumbling in a comical spin before crashing onto the ground.
“Call me noodle arm again and I’ll throw you to the moon next time,” Lucy shouted, not really caring if he even heard her or not, the girl's glare sharp enough to make the cat’s ears flatten.
“Speaking of which, where’s Cana?” Mirajane asked, smoothly steering the conversation away from the quarrel. “I’ve been trying to find her to see if she needed refreshments, since she also contributed quite a lot during the clean-up, but I can’t seem to find her.”
“Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen her either since we got back to town,” Lucy replied, frowning slightly. “She didn’t get injured, did she? I should check the infirmary.”
“No need, I already looked,” Mirajane assured her. “She’s not there. My guess is she was exhausted and went home early to rest. I’ve prepared some snacks for her. You should take these to her when your done. And if possible, make sure she doesn’t drink more than necessary.”
“Now you’re asking for the impossible.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
With that, Lucy, Loke, and Happy went back to work, hauling rubble and clearing debris. Lucy even summoned several of her available Celestia Spirits to lend a hand, Virgo proving the most useful, though the Celestia Spirits maid insisted on some bizarre combination of reward and punishment as payment for her efforts. Before long, the street stood completely cleared. Broly, along with several other wizards, hauled the rubble away to be repurposed by mages adept in earth-based magic, reshaping the broken stone into new building materials.
“All right, it’s almost sunset,” Lucy said as she closed her diary. “Broly’s probably back home by now. I should head there too.”
She felt that despite the day’s chaotic beginning, things had ended on a far better note. The cheerful, bustling atmosphere was already seeping back into the guild and the town, even amidst the damage left behind. Leaving the guild, she made her way home with the snacks Mirajane had entrusted to her.
“Cana should be awake by now. She’ll be happy to get these,” Lucy thought. “And I brought extra for Broly, too. Both of them worked so hard today.”
She also decided this was as good a chance as any to step into the spotlight by preparing a meal for them. Even if it wasn’t going to be anything elaborate, she was determined to make it hearty and rich in meat.
Reaching her home, Lucy pushed open the door, which gave a faint creak. The inside was dim, shadows stretching along the walls.
“What? Is Cana still sleeping?” she murmured, stepping inside. She made her way to a lacrima lamp, intending to turn on the light, when suddenly a hand clamped over her mouth from behind.
“Mmph!”
Panic surged through her. Her first thought was that a burglar had slipped inside, or worse, a dark mage had infiltrated her home. But before she could struggle, a quiet shush reached her ears, one that she recognised.
“Cana? What are you doing?!” was what she tried to say, but her voice got muffled by the hand.
The brunette smelled strongly of alcohol, even more so than usual, yet there was no trace of drunken haze in her eyes. Only the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed her drinking.
“Pipe down, will you?” Cana whispered urgently. “Something extraordinary’s going on, and I don’t want us to get caught.”
Still baffled, Lucy noticed the back door leading to the spring outside had been left slightly ajar. Cana had clearly been stationed there for some time, keeping watch.
Curious and now more cautious, Lucy signalled with her eyes that she would stay quiet. After a moment of hesitation, Cana released her.
It was then that Lucy’s ears picked up faint noises drifting through the crack in the door. She froze mid-step, the sounds growing clearer, sending an odd chill through her. Slowly, almost against her own will, she turned her head towards the gap.
Cana was already crouched low, peering outside. Lucy joined her a heartbeat later, leaning just enough to see over the drunk mage.
The sight before her made her mouth fall open in utter disbelief.
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{Break}
(Lemon Start!)
It has been a while since he saw Aquarius in that form. After living with Lucy for several years, Broly learnt a lot about not just the world in general but also Celestial Spirits. More specifically, on how they possessed a diverse range of magical abilities that did not necessarily just stop with those that they used whenever summoned or during combat. The ability to alter their shape to some degree, and in the case of Aquarius, finding out that she had the ability to change her fins into actual human legs. “I thought you didn't like having human legs? Said that it looks ugly.”
The blue-haired woman moved around a bit, looking like she was trying to get used to her new pair of limbs. “I don't mind them. It's just that in the I never had any use for them, but now that's a different story.”
With nothing covering her below, there was no fabric left to hide anything intimate beneath the water’s surface, revealing her smooth mound and pristine, pink womanhood.
She glided through the water with a suddenness that left him no time to react, her face emerging right in front of his. She didn’t hesitate, body flush against his with only the faintest boundary of space between them.
He stared into her eyes, their faces so close there was hardly room for air. Then her lips pressed to his, a delicate hint of something sweet lingering between them, and he let himself fall into the moment, savoring it for as long as he could. When the kiss finally broke, a thin string of saliva still connected their mouths, the celestial spirit gasping softly as she tried to catch her breath. “Wow,” she managed after a pause, voice a little shaky, “even after all this time, you haven’t lost your touch. Have you been practicing?”
Her question did not even sound like an accusation or said out of anger. Just out of curiosity, which was replaced by slight disbelief when the Saiyan shook his head. “I don't think it has been that long for me to forget something that we would do several times. Also, I did tell you that I don't easily forget something I learnt.”
“Oh my… Then show me what else you remember. How about a massage? This time, we won't be just be focusing on my chest.” Her hands grabbed onto his wrists before gently pulling them along and having them rest on her rear. An action that immediately made him squeeze onto her flesh with not too much strength, but enough to draw out a sensual moan from her mouth. “Ah! Yes, yes… Have more fun playing with these instead~.”
Of course, he did as instructed. Needing and groping her ass while continuing to observe her reaction to see what she liked and what brought the least amount of pleasure. Despite this being a transformed state from her usual self, which was a scaled mermaid fin, her legs and butt turned out to be softer than anything he had touched before. The skin, smooth and soft to the touch, elastic, making him want to play with them more.
"Like this," Aquarius instructed, her voice warm as he showed him the proper way while enjoying the process altogether. “Firm but gentle. Don't… hnn~! D-Don’t use too much strength, the human body is far more s-sensitive—ah~—than me!”
Her moans kept getting increasingly louder, along with how often her body shook under his touch. “Am I doing it right?”
"Mmm, yes~! Keep going~!," she purred, arching her back slightly, her gold circlet nearly slipping off from the action, while her hand continued to caress Broly's shaft that was twitching between them. "I love when you're firm with me... makes me want to let go and just—Ahhhh! Yes!.”
She liked that? Then he would be sure not to disappoint her.
“Kya!”
His other hand slid down to grip her hip, holding her firmly against him as his hardening length pressed against the cleft of her ass before sliding even further down between her legs.
"I've just noticed," he murmured into her ear, his voice low. Recalling how she had other sensitive spots around her neck. Nibbling her ears, which immediately caused her grip on him to strengthen to the point that, had it been a regular person, so much strength could have easily shattered their spine. “You’ve gotten more sensitive since last time.”
"I am n—" she wanted to protest, but the words died in her throat, and she let out a moan as he rolled her nipples between his fingers and kissed her neck. “A-ah, mmm! D-Don't make me beg for it… or else… I'll get a-angry…”
So she said, but he highly doubted that. The woman was enjoying every moment.
With the same effort as picking up a pillow, he lifted the blue-haired spirit onto the edge of the spring, positioning himself between her thighs. His lips crashed into hers, and she was surprised by how soft they were, softer than she’d imagined, but no less demanding. It was a kiss that left her dizzy, her hands instinctively gripping his large, broad shoulders for balance.
He remembered every weakness she had, exactly what spots made her gasp, what pressure made her squirm, what little touches drove her up the wall. His large, thick fingers worked under her navel, slick and sure, and Aquarius’s whole body jerked when he found what he was looking for. She almost yelped, but it came out as a shaky moan instead, the sound low and desperate. He teased her folds with laser focus, like he was showing off, and it was making her head spin so bad she could barely breathe.
“Fuck,” she hissed, knuckles white as she clung for dear life on his shoulders. His fingers pushed inside, curling, relentless. Her hips bucked helplessly, chasing every spark, every tiny shiver. “How do you—oh! Oh, fuck!”
He didn’t answer, just kept working her with a steady rhythm, his thumb circling her clit in a way that made her legs tremble. Aquarius's head fell back, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath.
“O-Oh fuck! Right there!” she managed to say between gasps, her voice trembling.
Without missing a beat, Broly’s hand kept working between the woman’s thighs as his other palm came down, sharp and punishing, on her plush ass. The smack rang out, echoing off the stones and water like a challenge and the Celestial Spirit’s eager cry answered it, just as quick, pleasure and pain mingling in her voice. Broly’s big hand squeezed, hard, greedy, hungry for the addictive feel of her flesh yielding under his grip.
“I-It wasn't my imagination, you… You definitely got better. We only did this once… hah… hah… hah… w-who was it with?” The woman asked in between her breaths, but once again got the same answer as before, with him shaking his head.
"I didn't do it with anyone," he answered calmly, genuine with his words given that after leaving his old house—there was just so much going on to even think about such things. No one made the same kind of advance on him as the person in front of him did. "I already know your weaknesses and how to use them properly."
Aquarius felt the first warning tremors of her approaching climax. The way she clung to him was already another indicator, along with her legs wrapping around him harder. Even her hands that were clutching his shoulders now clung at the rock's edge, knuckles whitening, cracking the stone with her strength as she fought to maintain some semblance of composure.
"That should be enough," he said, curling his fingers inside her to stroke against sensitive walls, before pulling them out.
"No!" Aquarius protested, unable to stop it from leaving her lips as she reached for his hand to shove back to her pussy and finish what he started. The desperation in her voice surprised even herself, but she didn’t want him to leave it like this. "Don't stop yet, keep going… Don't tell me you're already tired of me? Or… you just can't keep up?”
A knowing look formed on Broly's face, not oblivious enough to not recognise an obvious taunt to get him riled up. But, he hated to admit it, it was having some effect on him. Part of him wanted to erase that notion from her mind entirely and prove her wrong, to rise up to the challenge.
His member pressed against her stomach, long and thick, proof of Broly’s eagerness to lay with her.
Instinctively, she pressed her thighs together, a flutter of nervousness tempering her excitement. The grin on her face grew, gently gliding her fingers across the shaft and seeing the big guy in front flinch.
“For a guy who can take my hardest hits like they’re nothing, you’re sure sensitive down here,” she whispered right up against his ear, her body pressing close, arms sliding around him as she slowly sank down the water to her knees,. “Not that I mind. Actually… I want to see more of that cute, helpless face you make.” Her eyes flickered with raw, hungry excitement as she shamelessly eyed Broly’s cock, tongue flicking out over her glossy lips as she got ready to wrap them around his thick length.
The first hot swipe of her tongue across his shaft made Broly’s eyes go wide, a sharp gasp tearing free from his throat before he could stop it. He stared down at her as she started to bob her head, taking him in deeper and deeper, and the pleasure was… completely different from when she’d used her tits. His hands shot into her hair almost on instinct, fingers tangling tight.
A groan rumbled out of Broly as she sealed her lips around him, sucking steadily, her head moving up and down with a slow, deliberate rhythm. He knew she wanted to see him lose control, wanted to drag out every bit of weakness she could, but hell if he was going to make it easy for her. But then her tongue swirled right around the head of his cock, and he nearly lost it, knees going weak.
Aquarius grinned around the thick cock filling her mouth, cheeks hollowing as she worked him over, thrilled that he was still fighting to keep his composure. She could feel the struggle, could sense the mighty Saiyan straining to hold himself back, his hands trembling against her scalp as she kept testing him, determined to see how long he could last.
He was getting close. She could sense it—a tension, a pulse running through his body as the spirit bobbed her head faster, lips sealed tight around his cock, working him with a hunger that almost felt fierce. His grip on her head tightened, big hands guiding her up and down his length, forcing her pace. He was using her, and she loved it.
He let out a deep, guttural groan as he came, and the Celestial Spirit didn’t waste a drop. Her mouth was hot and wet and eager, sucking him dry and swallowing every spurt. The way she took him in made his eyes go wide, completely blindsided by the raw, overwhelming pleasure. And when her hand slid between his thighs to cup his balls, his brain just… shorted out. There was nothing left in him except for the feeling.
She pulled off him slowly, his cock slipping from her lips with a wet, obscene pop. Then she flicked out her tongue, showing him there wasn’t even a trace of cum left to be found. Not a drop.
Even after witnessing a scene like that, he wasn't anywhere close to tired. If anything, Broly was still buzzing with pent-up energy, every muscle in his massive body practically humming. Aquarius, like him, was just as eager; she didn’t waste a single heartbeat on words or hesitation. She just turned, because both of them already knew what they wanted.
With a practiced, almost liquid ease, Aquarius swung herself around and perched on the smooth stone edge of the spring. She didn’t bother hiding anything. Instead, she leaned back, bracing herself on her hands, and spread her legs wide open, giving Broly a front-row seat to everything she had. Her long blue hair tumbled over her shoulders in a wet, tangled curtain, and the sly little curl of her finger was all the invitation he needed.
“Come on, big guy,” she husked, voice low and filthy, echoing just above the water. “Let yourself loose and make me scream.”
Broly didn’t need to be told twice. That mountain of muscle moved through the spring with a single-minded focus, the water swirling and splashing around him as he closed the gap. His hands landed on her thighs and clamped down, huge palms digging in as he wedged himself between her spread legs. The water slapped and churned, but neither of them paid it any mind. He was on her now, exactly where they both wanted him to be.
“Hn!” He pressed forward, his thick tip breaching her entrance with an almost animalistic sounding growl escaping his mouth. The pressure was both exquisite and overwhelming; he could feel her body clench instinctively around him, but her abundant wetness welcomed him greedily. She gripped the edge tighter, a soft whimper escaping her lips as her body struggled to adjust to his girth.
"So tight," Broly groaned, his control visibly slipping for a moment as her heat enveloped him inch by inch.
The praise sent a thrill through her body; he felt it, spurring her to relax further, letting his cock burrow further. The initial discomfort gave way to a delicious stretch, a fullness as he worked himself deeper into her welcoming heat.
When he finally hilted himself completely, Aquarius felt unbelievably, perfectly filled. He remained still for a moment, allowing her to adjust to his size, his thumb coming up to stroke her lower lip. Without thinking, she took it into her mouth, sucking lightly, her eyes locked on his.
"Move," she commanded, her voice stronger now, coiling her tongue around his thumb. "I am far from over. Mmm~ Take me. Slurp Fuck me."
He needed no further urging. Withdrawing almost completely, leaving only the tip, before driving back in, and establishing a rhythm that had Aquarius seeing stars. Each thrust struck places within her that she hadn't known existed, rubbing spots that had her toes curling, sending waves of pleasure cascading through her body that had reached the edge quickly.
His hands didn’t let up, kneading her breasts as her moans grew louder, more desperate. “Sounds to me like you're the one who’s reaching your limit.” Aquarius bit her lip, knowing full well that if she opened her mouth now, it wouldn’t be words that came out — it’d be a moan loud enough to prove his point.
The hot spring was alive with the sounds of their coupling, the rhythmic slap of skin, Aquarius’s muffled gasps, and breathless praises. Aquarius groaned, a mix of pleasure and squeals, spreading her legs wide, positioning herself shamelessly in Broly’s line of sight.
“Is that… hah… is that all you got!?” She screamed, while he felt like approaching his limit. Not wanting to let her have the victory so easily, the Saiyan raised his hand before slapping her ass. The action sent electric shocks of pleasure through her core.
He growled again, his control visibly slipping as he drove into Aquarius with renewed vigor. He reached up, grabbing her by the back of her head, gripping her blue, purple locks and pulling her down for a bruising kiss, making the Celestial Spirit moan into his mouth, wrapping an arm around his neck.
Aquarius's eyes went wide as Broly zeroed in on a sensitive spot, his hands roaming everywhere, fingers taking their sweet time pinching her nipples, tugging and rolling those stiff peaks while they slammed together and kissed like animals.
They didn’t stop, not even for breath; their mouths smashed together, tongues fighting, teeth banging, every wet slurping and obscene smacking noise echoing out into the open air. It was a complete mess of moans (mostly hers), each one louder and needier than the last. Broly’s hand clamped down on her breast, squeezing and rolling and pinching at her nipple, while she writhed against his other hand, grinding on it as his fingers circled her sensitive nub, desperate for every last scrap of sensation.
By then, Aquarius was overwhelmed. Broly’s fat cock had her stretched to the edge, his tail stuffed in her mouth and pounding her throat, the slick, obscene sounds ringing in her ears. All of it slammed together, building toward a finish she could feel in her bones.
“Aaaaaaah~! Yes~!”
Her cunt spasmed around Broly's cock, the orgasm bulldozing through her in a hot, brain-melting rush. Her eyes fluttered, vision whiting out; she came harder than she’d ever managed in her whole life. She screamed—a high, frantic cry, muffled by Broly’s mouth crushing hers, lips locked tight. Her body bucked, shuddered, as Broly pumped her full, thick blasts of cum flooding her womb. Then Broly yanked out, and her ass, her back, got splattered in more of it. Ropes of cum, hot and sticky, painting her from tailbone to shoulders.
“Hah… hah… hah…”
They gasped for air, both taking a few moments to calm down from the euphoric experience. Or at least, that was what Aquarius believed, “W-What? Wait!” only to have a pair of hands firmly grab onto her ass, where she sensed his still hardened shaft press firmly in between her cheeks. Looking over her shoulder to find the Saiyan whose face had become visibly different, with nothing but lust visible within those eyes, where she saw a hint of green flashing by.
Exhilaration filled her heart, her own pride refusing to admit defeat, so she welcomed the challenge by spreading her cheeks and giving him a clear view while swaying her hips.
“Come on then, I can go on all night.”
All the while, her moans and his grunts filled the air, and two pairs of eyes watched the entire scene in disbelief and various other emotions. Unable to look away, every single moment forever seared into their mind.
Lucy heard Cana whisper, “Would I even last that long…?”
Her head turned towards the brunette, looking at her in disbelief, with the latter not even acknowledging anything, and she continued to stare through the small opening.
“This stays between us.”
Of course, she didn't need to remind her of that.
.
.
.
Lemon End
{Break}
(Next day)
With the sound of birds chirping and the strong wind rattling the windows of his room, Broly woke up from what had been a peaceful dream, a rare occurrence for him, considering how often he relived moments of his past and various other nightmares. In fact, ever since he returned from the mission where he faced the Oración Seis, Broly had not experienced a single nightmare. Where once his most common dream had been reliving the long days he’d spent on Vampa, though even he wasn’t sure if that was out of fear or a sense of longing for the only home he had known — all of that had now faded. He didn’t particularly miss it anymore, if he was honest.
“Hm?” Broly didn’t even get the word out before something heavy pinned him down. He looked down and, sure enough, there was Aquarius, naked as the day she was born, draped over his chest like a cat that had just claimed a new bed. She was dead asleep. After the chaos yesterday, both of them had passed out, and she hadn’t bothered to head back to the Celestial World. Now her legs were tangled with his, her blue hair a wild mess tangled up with his own across the sheets.
Honestly? He didn’t mind one bit. Enjoying the spirits closeness.
Broly was careful not to wake her. He slid her off his chest, slow as anything, then stood up, moving like he was handling glass.
"I should go help the others," he muttered to himself as he put the blanket over Aquarius, who snuggled into his pillow while muttering his name.
Magnolia still needed to be rebuilt, and there was plenty of work to be done. Fortunately, it seemed Aquarius was in a deep, heavy sleep and wouldn’t be waking any time soon. Slipping quietly out of the bedroom, he made his way through the short hallway into the living room, then into the kitchen.
There, he spotted both Lucy and Cana already awake.
"Good morning," he greeted casually.
Almost immediately, he noticed something was off. Neither of them reacted to his voice, nor did they acknowledge his presence, which wasn’t like them at all.
"What happened to you two? Your eyes look like you haven’t slept all night," he said, eyeing the dark bags under their eyes and the pale shade of their skin. It reminded him of the time Lucy had gotten sick and he hadn’t known how to care for her properly. Back then, he’d gone all the way to the manor to ask Gretel for help, which she had gladly provided.
"Oh, it's nothing—ah!" Lucy let out a startled yelp when he stepped closer and pressed the back of his hand against her forehead, checking her temperature out of concern.
The blonde scrambled back from his touch as if she had been shocked.
"Lucy?" he asked, clearly caught off guard by her reaction.
Thankfully, the confusion didn’t last long. She looked up with a quick shake of her head and gave a flustered explanation.
"Oh, it’s nothing! I was just... busy with some personal stuff last night and couldn’t sleep much! That’s all! I swear!" she blurted out, her words tumbling together in a rushed mess, though he managed to piece together her meaning.
As for Cana, she seemed to return to herself a moment later. She rubbed her eyes, shook her head, and took a long swig from a half-finished mug of beer before sighing deeply.
"Yeah, same here. I was just... occupied with something," she added vaguely.
And yet, even though Broly trusted both of them, trusted them enough that under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have questioned it, the way they were now practically screamed that something wasn’t right. Still, trying to force an answer out of them wouldn’t do any good. So, for the time being, he let the matter go and took a seat at the nearby table.
"I’ll be heading to the guild and continuing the work. You two shouldn’t come. You’ve both done plenty yesterday, and it’s clear neither of you is in the right state of mind to keep pushing yourselves. Rest for today. I’ll handle things."
"Fine," came Lucy’s immediate agreement. She looked almost relieved. Cana, on the other hand, said nothing. She simply nodded once, then looked away in silence.
Then, just as he was about to leave, he stopped and looked back with a slightly embarrassed smile and even a bit of guilt. “Sorry if Aquarius and I made a lot of noise yesterday, I'll ask Mirajane or Erza if they know any spells that can dampen the sound next time.”
“...”
“...”
Both were left stunned with his casual words, staring with widened eyes at the spot where he had left, with her mouth slightly opened. Lucy smacked her forehead and sigh loudly.
“Right, he never was shy about such things.”
Cana was speechless, for the woman now discovered she may have been under the wrong impression about the guy the entire time. With him not being as inexperienced as she initially believed…
“Wow… I don't know if that counts as him being way too confident or just a bizarre form of innocence.”
…
"Ah, exceptional!"
A grunt escaped Broly's lips as he heaved with effort, hoisting the massive bronze bell that had collapsed from the cathedral’s tower during the recent attack. The thing was nearly twice his height and just as wide, dense with age and metal, yet it rose in his grip with a steady, trembling groan of shifting weight.
"Holy shit, he really is strong enough to lift that thing!" one of the bystanders blurted out, eyes wide as they watched the impossible sight. "That bell's gotta weigh as much as several hundred people!"
"I told you, Fairy Tail people are ridiculous," another civilian muttered beside him, arms crossed but clearly just as astonished. "You’ve got some who can call down firestorms or freeze lakes solid. A guy who can lift that thing like it’s just a heavy bag of laundry? It tracks."
The Saiyan in question didn’t acknowledge the chatter. He wasn’t doing it for praise. Ignoring their stunned commentary, he moved steadily through the cathedral ruins with the bell balanced in his grip, then carefully flew his way to the upper floor, where a group of workers stood waiting. With a controlled movement, he set the bell back into place near the scaffolding, being prepared to reattach it.
"Great! Thank you so much, Fairy Tail wizard," one of the men said, visibly grateful. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a small coin sack. "Here, take this. It’s not much, but it’s something."
Ten thousand jewels. It wasn’t necessary, especially not when Fairy Tail had openly declared they would assist with the town’s restoration for free, but it was something, and he knew Lucy would appreciate it. So he gave a small nod and accepted the reward without protest before heading off again, ready to help elsewhere in Magnolia.
Across town, while he cleared rubble near a collapsed market street, a familiar voice drifted lazily behind him.
"Well, look at you being a good boy."
He didn’t turn. He didn’t need to. He’d already sensed her magical key approaching from a distance. Someone like her couldn’t go unnoticed unless she actively masked her presence, and she rarely ever bothered.
"Glad to see you're safe, Irene," he replied, still focused on shifting fallen bricks. "But maybe you should pitch in too. You’re supposed to be one of the best wizards around, aren’t you?"
"Hmph." She scoffed and flicked her hand dismissively, her staff tapping once against the ground. Instantly, a massive magic circle spread beneath their feet, its glow reaching out across the plaza and covering several homes that had been damaged in the fight. Before his eyes, the debris began to rise, bricks lifting gently into the air as though being guided by invisible strings. They realigned with uncanny precision, layering themselves back into place as the walls reformed, cracks sealing and broken beams straightening. Even shattered glass glinted as it pulled itself back into smooth panes, returning the windows to their former clarity.
"Amazing," he muttered under his breath, his voice caught somewhere between awe and admiration. No matter how many times he witnessed magic in action, its scope and creativity always managed to surprise him.
"You can use time magic, too?"
"Time magic?" She raised a brow. "No, that's not my field, though I do know some minor spells. You’d have to ask Dimaria for something like that." With a sly smirk, she tilted her head. "This spell’s just a creation of mine, levitation combined with mending, earth magic, and a few basics to restore small structures. Did you really think I’d be crawling around on my hands and knees, picking up rocks one by one?"
He blinked, then gave a short shrug. "Honestly? No."
That earned a brief smile from her — until he followed up.
"Given your nature as a dragon, I kind of expected you to be able to carry just as much as I can. Perhaps you should try lifting something occasionally. Build some muscle. You may be a dragon, but you’re not getting stronger just by waving your staff around."
Her smile vanished. Her eye twitched.
There was a tense pause.
Without a word, she raised her staff and pointed it straight at his head, her magic flaring and crackling at the tip. He didn’t flinch. Her fingers tightened on the shaft, and for one brief moment, her eyes burned with a familiar hostility.
Then she exhaled slowly and deeply, forcing the rising pressure back down.
Lowering the staff, she turned her gaze away, lips pressed into a thin line. She wouldn’t waste her energy on a comeback.
"You have grown more bold with your nonsensical words. I'll give you another chance, given I am in a good mood today. But say something like that again, and I'll make you suffer. Don't think just because you are stronger than me physically that I don't have my ways."
He didn’t take her threat lightly. Believing that someone like her would have no effect on him was not only foolish, it was naïve, especially after their first encounter. While it was true she couldn’t physically harm him, not even in her transformed state, pain came in many forms, and she had no shortage of methods at her disposal to deliver it.
"I was just trying to be helpful."
"Thank you, but it's not needed," she said, taking a seat as he busied himself in another section, clearing out the cluttered remnants of the battle. "I am surprised you managed to kill that man. Even though the second master of Fairy Tail never came close to attaining the One Magic, his arsenal of spells was already formidable. The Amaterasu Formula alone requires a mind of considerable refinement to master. Combine that with the Demon Eye and an overwhelming supply of ethernano, I doubt even the current master would have stood a chance."
He set down his bow with a dull thud.
"I didn’t kill him. He made that choice himself, even when I tried to convince him otherwise."
Something he wished could have been avoided.
"If you want to look at it that way, then I suppose I can agree with that. But the fact remains that you stood your ground in a one-on-one battle against him and survived. That’s no small feat."
"I just tried my best."
He truly felt no triumph in what others might have called a victory. There was no joy in having technically defeated the former master of Grimoire Heart. He had wished for a different outcome, had hoped his words might reach the old man and steer him from his course. But in the end, he couldn’t allow his friends to be sacrificed so that a desperate relic of the past could force him to inherit his dying legacy, chasing a myth for the sake of reviving those already lost.
"Is the One Magic really such a wondrous thing that people are willing to become monsters and give up everything they have just to increase their odds of attaining it?" he asked the one person he thought might truly understand.
"Depends," she replied with a shrug. "The One Magic isn’t just something made to destroy or grant invincibility. It’s said to make anything possible. Curing incurable diseases, lifting even the most cursed afflictions laid by the gods themselves, reviving the dead, or even inflicting curses on the same level as a god — it's just infinite magic. In a sense, acquiring the One Magic would make someone no different than a god."
A god, huh… reaching godhood, though she made it sound extraordinary, did not feel that special. Having fought those with the power of gods, he managed to overpower them at the expense of his sanity slipping away back then. But it was that exact power, when combined, that truly made him fear death and snap him back to his senses. If such a power also existed in this world, then part of Broly wondered if he could meet someone like that again.
"Have you ever tried to acquire it yourself, seeing as you're a mage too?"
Irene froze at the question, though not out of offense. It was as if a memory had suddenly surfaced and caught her in its grasp.
"I know better than anyone the consequences of great power that isn’t earned or meant to be wielded. There is always a price. That old fool believed a few sacrifices and some determination would be enough. I’m content with the power I already possess. I don’t need a crutch, especially not one that would insult everything I’ve become."
Truth be told, he hadn’t expected such an answer. She had always struck him as someone constantly reaching for greater heights, someone who would never turn down more power. But to reject the One Magic simply because its cost was too high and because she did not need it? He supposed, in her case, he could understand why.
Then, he felt a particular Ki signature draw closer.
"Eh!? Again, another beautiful woman! Every time I see you, you're always surrounded by stunning, wonderful maidens! You're going to make me jealous. You should teach me a thing or two," came the amused voice that cut into their conversation, drawing Broly’s attention as Gildarts strode over with a wide grin spread across his weathered face. The older man gave them a cheerful wave, though his eyes drifted curiously toward the newcomer beside Broly.
"She really does look like Erza... A new member, perhaps?"
"Her sist—oof" Whatever Broly had intended to say never reached the air. A sudden surge of magical force struck him full in the chest, a blast so powerful it sent him hurtling backwards, crashing into the earth with enough force to gouge out a deep crater and scatter the debris of the recently cleaned square.
The impact drew an impressed whistle from Gildarts, who raised an eyebrow as he peered into the crater.
"A powerful one, that. I don't think you're a member of Fairy Tail. I don’t see a guild mark anywhere."
"Who I am is of no concern to you," the woman replied, her voice calm yet sharp. "Ignore his nonsense. I am not the sister of the one you know as Erza Scarlet. I am merely a traveller and researcher, here to observe your fellow guildmate beside you."
"Traveller? Strange. I've been all over, but I’ve never heard of you during my journeys."
"Of course you wouldn’t," she replied with a subtle tilt of her head. "I hail from beyond Ishgar."
Gildarts stroked his chin, still wearing that signature grin of his. "Curious indeed. What would someone with such a high level of magical power want with Fairy Tail and my new best friend over here?"
Her gaze narrowed, a trace of chill creeping into her tone. "I do not appreciate being interrogated. If you have something to ask, then ask it plainly."
The air thickened between them, tension slowly coiling like a snake ready to strike. Yet Gildarts only chuckled softly, unbothered, and continued smiling as though nothing had changed.
"Apologies if it came off that way. I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable," he said, spreading his hands lightly. "But I hope you understand — after what happened here in the past few days, with Grimoire Heart making such a bold move to attack the town itself, it's natural for me to feel on edge. Especially when it comes to newcomers with vague intentions. More so when the Guild Master isn’t even aware of your presence."
Before she could speak again, the man raised both hands and stepped back, his posture relaxed and non-threatening.
"But I digress. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. I didn’t come here to start trouble with you, miss. In fact, I came here for you."
He crouched down beside the crater, watching as Broly climbed out without so much as a scratch. His clothes were tattered and covered in dust, but his body bore no injury. Brushing the dirt from his shoulders, the Saiyan looked at Gildarts with evident confusion.
"The Master and I had a long talk, you could say," Gildarts continued. "He told me quite a bit about you, and I think I’ve come to understand the sort of position you're in right now. Blowing up a mountain on your first quest, sinking an island while fighting a dragon of all things… and then you being the one who actually destroyed the moon? Hahaha! I swear, if it wasn't Makarov who told me, I would’ve thought someone was trying to prank me."
He extended a hand, which Broly accepted without hesitation. With almost no effort, Gildarts pulled him out of the hole. Their grips locked briefly, and Broly immediately sensed the sheer abundance of energy contained within the older man. Though he was clearly a wizard and not a practitioner of ki, the force within him was undeniable.
"Must be tough," Gildarts remarked, clapping him on the shoulder. "Living in a world where you're afraid to touch anything too hard or use too much strength. Everything must feel like it could break in your hands, like the world around you is made of paper. I get that."
"It's not so bad," Broly replied, lowering his arm. "Recently, I've learned how to control my strength."
That made the light brown haired man nod his head. “But again, it gets frustrating to always hold back, doesn't it? Not being able to cut loose makes you jittery. And if that pressure builds up too long, it dulls your senses. Makes you lose your drive,” Gildarts muttered, scratching the back of his head with a sigh.
Broly blinked, caught off-guard. Those words struck far closer than he expected. That ever-present feeling — yes, he knew it well. It wasn’t just about fighting. It was the strain of never being able to fully let go, of always keeping a lid on himself even now, even after gaining some control. It was exhausting in ways that no physical battle could ever replicate. It was like part of him had to remain clenched tight at all times, never fully allowed to breathe.
Seeing the look on his face, Gildarts gave a hearty laugh and smacked a hand against his shoulder with a loud clap.
“You know,” the middle-aged man said, grinning, “I've been feeling the same way lately. And I think I’ve got the perfect cure for both of us. Gonna sound a lot like Natsu saying this, and I'm sure that fireball won’t stop bugging me once he hears, but what do you say we have a friendly spar? Just you and me?”
“I accept,” Broly replied without hesitation. He didn’t know why the words left his mouth so quickly, but something about it just felt right. Master Makarov had once mentioned that the only one in Fairy Tail who could possibly push him was the man standing in front of him. Broly had always been curious.
Natsu tried, and so did Erza during their spar. He had fun, but it never pushed him to a level high enough that he felt truly satisfied. Against Hades, it was more frustration and anger that filled his mind, as his opponent tried to hurt his friends, making it hard for him to truly enjoy the battle.
Gildarts raised his eyebrows and laughed again.
“Someone’s eager. Alright then. Let’s find a place where there are fewer people around. Don’t want to give the old man another heart attack, not with all the damage that’s happened lately.”
Just as the two prepared to leave, Gildarts turned his head toward Irene, his grin taking a more playful slant.
“Would this beautiful lady care to accompany us as a judge? Perhaps the winner earns a kiss from those fair lips?”
“Try that,” Irene said with a cool, warning glance, “and I’ll make sure you no longer have a mouth to kiss with. But I accept. I’m curious to see what Fairy Tail’s so-called strongest is truly made of.”
Gildarts smirked, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck as he fell in step behind Broly, who had already started heading out to find a proper battlefield.
“Then I’d best give it everything I’ve got. Wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”
2025-08-05 19:26:37 +0000 UTC
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Already started writing To Love a Sword as the next update. Hopefully I can have Fake Familiar Reborn also be done before next month.
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-?-???-
Olga had to admit, she was truly not made for outdoor travel. The constant trudge across uneven terrain, the damp chill that clung to her skin, and the utter lack of comfort made her long for the cold stone corridors of her little… prison cell in Feoh. She much preferred it to dealing with the odd spiderweb here and there, given that Chloe was the only person who actually cleaned the place.
The thought made her miss her Castle even more. The epitome of luxury built in her own taste on top of the former Black Keep… now all reduced to rubble and most likely taken over by greenery.
‘That damned man. While I am grateful he saved us from Vault’s plan, sure— but did he really have to destroy everything? Tch. Always trying to act all cool and composed, yet whenever it suits him, he defaults to brute force tactics like some stupid Orc.’
She had no choice but to remain vigilant through the entire night, scanning for any sign of demons, slavers, monsters —fiends that prowled just beyond the reach of her vision. It had been far more taxing than she cared to admit. Her eyes, once used to the glitter of candlelight and polished marble, now scanned every rustling bush and shifting shadow with suspicion.
The only genuine solace she had found since her journey began were the protective spells she cast each night, a simple protection-bound field barrier using the earth element. It took a fair amount of mana to maintain, but it brought her the assurance that anything short of a mid-tier demon or organized orc raid would be kept at bay. Still, if she were to be truly honest with herself, she doubted the barrier would last long if either of those ever decided to test her defense.
Fortunately, nothing of that magnitude had occurred.
So far, the wilderness had been relatively kind to her. The animals had welcomed her presence and caused her no harm, which, given her status as a Dark Elf, made perfect sense because of her very nature. It had been so long that she had completely forgotten about this part of her heritage. Perhaps with the right spell, one could even fashion control over a beast to act as her eyes and guard for the night. Sadly, her powers had waned, and now, without her throne, she found it difficult even invoking a modicum of control using those demanding spells, and also wasteful. Maybe she could turn a small animal into her familiar to act as a watcher, perhaps a bird.
The most persistent threat of them so far had turned out to be bugs and mosquitoes, which plagued her with incessant buzzing and biting throughout the evenings until, in a brief fit of frustration, she released a burst of wind magic that scattered them with enough force to leave the surrounding trees rustling.
"Something as small as this will not hinder my path."
The words were muttered more for herself than anyone else, a quiet mantra to give shape to her fraying determination. It was the sort of thing she used to say during her days as an apprentice in Nidavelir, and even more often in the years just before she was chosen for the ritual after Mistiora's disappearance.
But that had been so long ago.
So far removed from her present reality that the memories of it blurred like a dream fading at dawn.
She adjusted her robes, brushed a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, and exhaled deeply.
“She should be close enough.”
The woman stumbled forward whilst holding the wooden staff, which now showed signs of wear and scratches after being used across a long distance — its base slightly worn. A robe she managed to acquire… after carefully taking it from an unsuspecting human caravan that seemed to be heading to Feoh. Stealing? That was a sacrifice she was willing to make for her decency, and when recalling that these people were humans, any amount of guilt would evaporate.
The thought of asking for it never even crossed her mind, refusing to barter as an equal.
Though it did nothing for the shame that remained, that was something she hadn't grown used to these past few weeks.
Despite her best efforts, these robes did little to hide her full, voluptuous figure. Even draped in fabric, her curvy shape pushed right through—the substantial swell of her chest straining the material, her toned navel and thick thighs refusing to be concealed, and her long legs peeking out beneath every step. Strands of gorgeous, dark black hair escaped the hood, framing flawless, deep-toned skin. She continued down the road, pausing every so often to glance backwards, always making sure to pull her hood forward to cover her elf ears. Her eyes narrowed as she squinted into the distance, a flicker of worry and something unreadable passing through her gaze each time.
Her firm, calm gaze planted firmly in the direction of Feoh.
“…”
There was not much to do when traversing such long distances other than entertaining herself with her own thoughts, which left her delving into memories of the past.
At times, stopping in her tracks, she gazed at what was a breathtaking view of the verdant hills in the distance, untouched by human hands or demons. With nothing but the soft wind swaying the grass and the sound of leaves rustling behind her. Some even bloomed with flowers whose petals resembled the moonlight as if they were crafted from silver. In the midst, a few patches of roses grew amongst them red as rubies, and stood as proud and untouchable as their thorns suggested..
“She would have loved this view…” Olga let out, recalling moments where she could peacefully fall asleep to such a display, accompanied by her only family, so long ago.
Further pulling her hood over her head, recalling that particular face, her dear Mistiora, who always liked playing outside during their spare time and loved exploring the world itself. A pure soul untouched by the taints of this world who let out a smile so carefree as the wind, a person she still sought to find one day… even if part of her heart feared encountering a grave at the end or worse.
Humans were cruel, twisted, and lustful with her alone; someone like Mistiora has little chance of surviving for long outside. But she still kept hope, foolishly maybe, it was better than accepting a bleak outcome without proof. The one truth she refuses to accept is that a quick death is a mercy for many of her kind rather than being captured.
“Archer really is my only chance of finding you, isn’t he?” She had searched for centuries and failed to find any trace. Despite that man's insistence on non-interference, he seemed to have a massive tendency to encounter lost souls who sought a saviour, and aiding them, with Radomira being a good example.
She hoped one of them would be a certain Dark Elf, to accomplish something she failed time and time again.
“She would have laughed seeing me in this state or despised me for what I have done…,” Olga chuckled, remembering just how much that girl idolized her. A sentiment she found endearing and used as encouragement for her to grow better in her studies of magic. And now, the once in a thousand years prodigy and fearsome queen who commanded thousands had been reduced to a single weak woman who had to use a spell to compress thousands of leaves together just to make a pillow. Then another wind spell was cast to make sure to remove the foul odor from it so it wouldn’t stick to her hair. “Hah… What am I doing reminiscing with these memories? I should focus on Chloe.”
Through pure dumb luck, the dark-haired woman managed to avoid many dangers while keeping track. A simple marking spell she had used to keep track of her subordinate’s location during the war was her saving grace. But not long, she had to use it less and less as she learned where the path was heading.
Completely opposite to what she believed to be the initial destination.
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(A few hours later)
“Fullstar.”
The name left a certain blonde Dark Elf’s mouth as she watched the campfire crackle in front of her, illuminating the surroundings while the demihuman who had captured her was busy polishing her greatsword with a damp cloth, a whetstone, and a wooden bucket of water next to her. All around them were tents, with several men in the background moving around several supplies, getting horses and carts ready. Many mercenaries could be seen nearby drinking and eating, some giving her hateful stares, and the rest just having their own little fire where they gathered around to speak amongst themselves.
A mercenary group, all having a tag around the neck depicting the figure of a white wolf, the same as the flag above the campsite, reminding Chloe of the Kuroinu.
The mark of the White Wolves Mercenary Group…“Shirōkami”.
"Fullstar? Now what makes you think that?" Leona asked, not really gloating, not angry, not even mocking. Her voice barely shifted; she just kept working at her sword, wiping the blade in slow, steady strokes, the fire reflecting off the metal with a polished gleam. She didn't even look up from her work.
“This place….” Chloe mentioned, her voice slightly hoarse due to both exhaustion and dehydration, only given enough food and water to stay alive, as she gestured to their current location, a clearing that was actually situated in the middle of the old ruins of a bygone era, dilapidated and overtaken by vegetation. However, while the White Wolves had made camp in it, they could not deny the broken structures around them as they moved around it... the gray stone cracked in places yet still sturdy, and the signs of time riddled the entire place. “Interesting place to set up a camp.”
“I see, you dark elves would recognize this place?” A moment of silence came after those words, the dark elf’s eyes narrowing, though she did not say anything in response. “Still have those long-lost childhood memories of frolicking around this area centuries ago?”
“Did you kill the people who once lived here?” Chloe asked, perhaps even feeling too tired to even get angry or fall for the bait. At this moment, she recognized the place, not because she held memories of this place, given she had never been here, but rather recognizing the symbols that once belonged to the ancient high elven population of ancient times. Symbols that she had seen Olga study before and even recreate in Castle Discordia.
The very idea that perhaps at one point people lived here had their own livelihood taken one way or another by the various humans and demi-humans that helped them made her blood boil with rage. She had seen and heard of such cases so many times that even though she became numb to it, she still could not stop the ferocious emotions rolling within her… it was not something she could afford to accept. “I am not that old to have lived here, but I know this place does not belong to you.”
“Yeah, well, neither does it belong to you or anyone, for that matter. Whoever had a claim on this place was long gone, and not even that bratty queen in Fullstar is interested. Their loss, this place is still usable, so tell me if not us, then I’m sure that some other demons or refugees escaping as far from the war as they could would have taken over this place.” Stopping her polishing for a bit, she swung the blade and pointed the massive greatsword at her, the tip almost nicking her chin. “Which version of that is more palatable to your taste, oh great dark elf?”
Without even flinching at the sword, she answered with her gaze firm on the Lycan woman. “ A group that will not defame our history.”
“Unfortunately, you’ve already done so yourself. Hard to keep seeing dark elves in a positive way after all the shit you’ve done. To not to be feared when the most infamous amongst you is waging war against the world itself by using demonic forces sent at every corner; destroying villages, killing people, raping women, and eating children. So in a way, just see this as repurposing the land for a much better cause than her bullshit.” The woman answered, sounding a little impressed by Chloe's words.
A silence once more emerged between the two of them. Leona pulled the greatsword back to her eyesight and gently touched the tip. “Hmmm, needs to be sharpened again.” Placing the wet cloth back in the bucket, she took out the whetstone and proceeded to sharpen it.
Shink….
Shink…
Shink…
Nothing but the sound of her blade grinding, scraping, and singing, along with the crackling of the campfire, could be heard as she worked to maintain her sword.
”You speak as if you are a righteous group out to do the right thing and talk as if you're better than us, yet here you are working for that man who is a true monster skinned in human flesh.” A trace amount of venom escaped Chloe’s mouth, for even in her tired state, she could not accept being anywhere near that person and even now felt her emotions reach a boiling point at the mere thought of… him.
“Again with that, you just won't shut the fuck up about him, won't you?”
“Because I am still having a hard time believing you don’t know what he is. He is his own kind of monster, and even you must realize that if it weren’t for people like him destroying the elven race, we would have never seen the need to fight in the first place. You think you're safe, trust me, it won’t be long before he turns his eyes to the people you care about. The sheer ridiculousness of your situation makes me unable to think of anything else other than to find it funny how much of a hypocrite you all are.” A sarcastic, tired grin devoid of energy emerged on Chloe’s face.
Leona had nothing to say to that, a frown appearing on her face.
“Go ahead, hate us for what we did to survive, but just one look at that guy’s actions and you’ll find it difficult to say you're better when you're helping him.”
Their conversation was listened to by the others in the camp, whose gazes all turned slightly redder and darker the longer they listened, their gaze finally turning hostile, filled with anger, gazing at their prisoner. “Hey boss, I know she's our main merchandise that’s being delivered, but I don't remember there being any clause that specifically stated that we could knock her teeth out. Probably thank us for shutting her up and making it easier to fuck that bitchy mouth of hers.” One of the guys mentioned while cracking his knuckles, others had a similar idea on their mind.
“She talks quite a bit for someone currently tied up. Perhaps the reality of her situation has not settled in yet.”
“Don’t forget all our friends and members who lost their lives dealing with this bitch herself and her queen’s demons she led to attack everywhere."
Leona remained firm as she looked Chloe straight in the face, but the half-dark elf didn’t even flinch. Letting out a deep breath, she set down her whetstone, took the wet cloth, and wiped her sword one final time. Touching the blade’s tip, she finally saw small blood on her finger. “This’ll do.”
On the other hand, the crowd around kept getting more and more rowdy. “I say we each get one pummel session with her. Let’s beat her till she’s black and blue. Make sure to cover her mouth so her screaming doesn’t attract animals.”
“At least that would get her to shut up completely, remember how pissy she was when she first arrived? Bitch. She could still command us around even while being tied like a pig about to be roasted, I bet a few fists to the guts will remind her of her place.”
Others within the group had another idea completely. “No, just give me one moment with her, with a fine body like that, I'll make sure she reme—”
“—Enough.”
That single voice spoke with such authority that it silenced all the hungry wolves in an instant. Leona now had put her greatsword to the side and then proceeded to smack the last person who commented on the head. “I know she can get on your nerves, and even more so when you remember who she is exactly, but don't fall for it. The client paid us a pretty coin just to get her back to him and will even pay us a bonus if she’s unharmed.”
She walked between them and Chloe to address them all. “All right, listen up, whichever bastard here wants to turn down an extra gold coin per individual, come forth and say that you want to teach this bitch a lesson, I'll let you do it.”
At the silent crowd, he gazed at their leader. “You're serious with that, Boss.”
She let out a feral grin. “Yeah. Be my guest, but you’ll have to bear the consequences of making others lose that money. I don't mind, my pockets are already quite heavy.”
She addressed her pack with a different tone after seeing some hesitation this time. “Listen up boys, this is still a job, and we do our jobs well. Our client wants the little missy here in one piece, so any damage she takes goes out of our paycheck. Be that as it may, I know you have grievances and I’m all for letting them out, but whatever beating she takes comes out of whoever’s pocket does the beating.”
As soon as she said that, everyone stopped talking and looked at one another, though no one came forward as they contemplated the decision. Their minds were completely hooked on the part concerning their payment, their promised riches made them all look on with greed, eventually overwhelming any anger and even lust that managed to make their way within their heads. “Shit, I'm already happy if I can earn a silver per mission, but a fucking gold coin… With that, I could easily go to those fancy restaurants all month and drink all day till I'm shit-faced drunk.”
“Yeah, but with all she’s done, I bet it would be worth it.”
"Maybe…but with that, I could finally get that enchanted sword I always wanted. Those greedy mages always charge a nominal leg for even the lowest quality enchanted weapons. They can create it in five minutes for no reason and have the audacity to call it fine quality.”
“I want to beat her so badly, but I really want to retire this season.”
“She may have a fine body, but I can find a whore just as sexy that would cost me less and with a less of a cunt attitude.”
One by one, the words of Leona made them come back to their senses, with matters related to money being the most powerful thing to jostle their mind.
“Whatever, she’ll get what's coming to her where she’s going. We’ll just have to accept it’s enough.”
All of them went back to their fireplaces and some even to their tents to sleep for the night, leaving the two women alone all by themselves.
Chloe was taken aback at first, having fully been prepared to be taken advantage of by these people. Still, seeing them retreat after hearing the reason, she was even certain of one thing alone.
“Whatever he promised you, that man will not hold up his end of the bargain. He will take advantage of you in some way, shape, or form. You’ll all just end up becoming pawns in his hands. That man… he has his eyes on everyone to sell them as slaves, and you will be part of his products soon enough.”
The more she talked, the paler her face became, goosebumps spreading from remaining memories associated with her early childhood.
“The more I listen to you, the more apparent it becomes that you have some connection to this guy, and I'm not just talking about you hating him just because he is responsible for enslaving your kind, no, this seems more personal.”
“...”
"Not going to talk now?"
No. Chloe didn’t answer, not with words. Her stare alone made her feelings perfectly clear. Across from her, Leona had stopped polishing her sword. She squinted, as though some idle speck in her memory had suddenly taken shape.
"Mandaville is quite well known in Fullstar," Leona said, her voice casual, eyes not leaving Chloe. "Even outside the kingdom, there are plenty of stories about him and his fondness for dark elves. When you're in my line of duty, you hear all kinds of rumors floating around."
A flicker of something dark stirred in Chloe's chest. Her hands began to clench, her knuckles paling. Her breathing deepened.
"Shut up," she whispered, a low warning, almost inaudible.
But Leona showed no sign of stopping. If anything, she leaned further in, her voice quieter, crueler as she’s slowly digging the knife in an open wound. "Before he moved to Fullstar, I remember hearing he ran a slave ring in one of the Princess Knight kingdoms. Word was, he liked his dark elf slaves so much, he kept the most beautiful ones in his own private harem. Slept with them. Fathered plenty of illegitimate children before fucking them as well."
"I said shut up!"
"You… you're one of them, aren't you?" Leona tilted her head, studying her like a predator might a wounded deer. "A half-breed."
"…"
Her silence may have been a mistake, for it only served to affirm the previous statement and make her captor grow increasingly bold. "Not going to lunge at me again? No righteous fury demeaning my very existence ?"
"… I… I am not a half-breed," Chloe said at last, words that were more to herself than the Lycan woman in front of her. "That man is not my father. He’s a disgusting, excrement of human waste who deserves to rot in the deepest pits of Oblivion. I am not… I-I am not…"
"Hmph. Normally, I'd pity someone like you. But you and your precious Queen, you're both monsters. Don’t expect sympathy. I’m no saint either, and I’m not trying to be. I’ve lost too much in this pathetic war between Celestine and Olga. So I won’t shed a tear if one monster kills another."
Leona straightened her back and placed her sword down beside her. "Now sit tight. At first light, we’ll take our secret pathway to Fullstar. Let’s give you that sweet little family reunion."
The longer she thought about getting close to that place, the more the desperation within grew, along with hatred of herself. For she knew full well that man would use her to get to Olga, whom he must have set his eyes on, an outcome she could not accept.
If death turned out to be the best outcome to save not only herself but also Olga—then so be it. "I won't go back. I’d rathe—mmph!"
"Don't," Leona growled, her grip clamping over Chloe’s mouth right as it appeared she would bite on her tongue. Her fingers pressed hard into the girl’s cheeks with enough force to pry her jaw open. "Even if you tried, the collar and cuffs are specifically made for that. If you want to get electrified, then be my guest. You have much to answer for. Blood spilled. Families shattered. You think you can escape that? Death isn’t a door you’re allowed to open."
Her voice dropped to a whisper, but the venom lacing her words struck deeper than any scream. The white-maned amazon warrior loomed over her, the massive sword slung across her back catching the low torchlight. Her features, sharp and weathered, cast her in the shape of something more beast than woman. In Chloe’s eyes, she was a wolf — wild, cold, and ready to tear her throat open the moment she tried to run.
"I can see it," Leona murmured, eyes narrowing. "You’ve already given up on the thought of rescue. Good. Keep it that way. No one in their right mind would come for you, especially not after everything you’ve done. Be it elf, beastkin, demi-human, or less than likely, human."
The idea of a human aiding Olga or any of her allies was absurd in itself. Her hatred for humanity had never been a secret, and even those foolish enough to think they could earn her favour were swiftly proven wrong. Chloe knew this line of thought must have crossed Leona’s mind as well, and she wasn’t entirely mistaken. The notion of humans working alongside her Queen was about as believable as demons suddenly deciding to become kind-hearted pacifists and devote their lives to celibacy. There was a better chance of the goddess reborn siding with them than her Queen placing any trust in mankind.
…Except for one.
“He is not like the others,” Chloe whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Her own consciousness balked at the thought, but no matter how many times she tried to reject it, this truth refused to be denied.
“What?”
“He… he doesn't have the same hidden agendas as the ones who sought to harm us. He doesn’t even care about that sort of thing.”
She recalled their encounters, the moments when he had cut down those Kuroinu, the ones who would have led them into a fate far worse than death. The memory was vivid. He could have slain them at any moment. He had every advantage and could have used them without fear of resistance. But he didn’t.
“Sympathizer?”
Chloe shook her head slowly. No, that word didn’t fit him in the slightest.
“He just didn’t see us as a threat like the rest of them,” she answered, her voice quiet but certain.
Leona gave her a strange look, a mixture of curiosity and disdain. Had Chloe heard herself speak like this even a few weeks ago, she would have scoffed or perhaps reacted even more harshly. How could anyone not see her Queen and the armies she commanded as a threat? They possessed legions of demons that could topple kingdoms. Her Queen wielded advanced magic, the kind that surpassed what most human mages could even dream of. It was madness to think anyone would not be intimidated by such overwhelming force.
But that was exactly it.
“Because there's a monster far more terrifying hiding within the kingdom itself.”
Not a demon or devil, but something wholly foreign. Something Powerful. Something that wasn’t born of this world. Its first appearance had sent even Olga into a moment of stunned silence, and the carnage it left behind in a single encounter had shaken Chloe to her core.
“She came the closest to killing him,” Chloe murmured, more to herself than anyone else.
“The so-called Princess Knights are revered in backwater villages, spoken of as demigods in human form. It is not uncommon for people to say the goddess herself had imbued them with fragments of her divine essence. If they can prove themselves to be a threat against him, it would be someone like Claudia. He is still a human, from what I understand, a skilled one but still human.” Leona added with a light shrug. “I would have tested him myself had we met, to see if he truly deserves such a reputation.”
But at that, Chloe laughed, softly, weakly, and with a dry, bitter tone. It was the first time such a sound had escaped her in Leona’s presence, and the white-haired warrior narrowed her eyes in response.
In the end, not even Claudia had left such wounds as she had seen. The mangled arm on her first meeting, the time he was flung from the castle on the brink of death, practically in a coma. She’d thought so hard about beating him, but the one who always managed to injure him was the one he spoke of as the true target.
“You truly have no idea,” Chloe whispered, gaze cast downward. “Even the Princess Knights are nothing compared to him, let alone that… thing.”
At that, Leona chuckled, and it was clear she did not take her seriously at all. Instead of getting up and grabbing her neck. “Ugh!”
Chloe struggled at first, her feet barely able to keep up as the pole she was tied to was pulled off the ground. Chloe, being dragged to another area of the camp, struggled to breathe as Leona never let her hands off her throat. Leona stopped in a tent, where she then proceeded to throw her into what was practically a giant cage, snapping the pole. The bars were then closed, making any escape impossible.
“Whatever, right now I am tired of talking to you. So just sit there like a good girl and we will part ways tomorrow,” was all that she said before leaving.
The humiliation of being treated like that did not fail to fan Chloe's anger, yet that was all that could happen with her being powerless to do anything else. Curling herself up in the corner, she just waited for the inevitable outcome, starting to even lose the light in her eyes when thoughts of him surfaced.
‘Why would he even come here to save me?’ Along the way, numerous times her mind betrayed her with the desire to be saved by Archer, coming back again and again. It made no sense, and even the explanation she gave to Leona earlier was mostly something she told to convince herself. ‘I have insulted him, attacked him, kept antagonizing him at every given opportunity… why would he ever consider rescuing me?’
It was a stupid idea, one that she started to understand bit by bit.
Archer saw Olga as important for obvious reasons, not her. ‘I have nothing to offer him and he has nothing to gain from me. Even if I die, someone else can easily take my place.’
Brynn alone had already done that. As much as she hated that woman, Chloe had to admit her skills had grown at a tremendous rate under his tutelage. Olga would not be in danger with them around, and that brunette even knew how to cook and clean.
As the seconds turned into minutes, she began accepting her fate. Perhaps it would be better this way, for her Queen to stay safe and Archer to focus on more important matters than herself. So with all hope vanishing from her eyes, she closed them with faint words leaving her mouth. “It has been an honour serving you, Lady Olga.”
“I don't remember dismissing you, Chloe.”
“—!?”
A fragment of her imagination? That was what she believed upon hearing those words at first, snapping her eyes open only to see the impossible sight of what was a familiar silhouette standing outside the cage. Invisible at first, but her outline was clearly distinguishable, with the spell disappearing soon enough.
“I believe I remember you making the oath of only stopping to serve me in death. Are you going back on your words now? I did not give you permission to die.”
“W-what are you…”
No… no, she was not supposed to be here… in this dangerous place… why was she…
Her answer came with the sound of Olga tapping the staff on the ground with several magic circles starting to glow both beneath the cage and also around the camp. “People have forgotten who I am; they no longer fear me. I blame him, and I shall teach him a lesson and put him in his place under me next time we meet.”
“…” No, she was really here….
“So I will remind them today as to why I am called the Dark Queen.”
Chloe could not even find any strength within her to say anything as the glow grew brighter, enveloping the entire camp, and then followed by a large amount of mana gathering all at once.
This felt just like that time, back when she was still young and chained up. Having lost both her mother and all hope after being tortured by that hateful man.
And now, even after all these years, she was being saved again by the same person she swore to protect and serve. Any joy within her heart got overwhelmed by sadness, for this only highlighted that in the end, she was still weak.
{Break}
-???-
“She was here.” Celestine's voice reached Archer as the horses came to a stop in front of a small clearing, one of many they had seen during their travels. Though this time, Archer did not even need Celestine to comment upon seeing the clear marks of runic symbols on the ground that appeared to be for a bounded field.
“She did not bother to hide them this time, either; she was in a hurry, or something was chasing her.”
“Unlikely, there are no signs of any conflicts, and we haven’t encountered any demons or their remnants of any kind on our way here.” Crouching near the area and gazing at every little detail he could find.
His eyes momentarily went to the pile of leaves that appeared to have been mushed together, almost resembling a pillow of all things along with the trace of magic. Quite a funny sight, which made it clear it was none other than Olga's work.
Archer couldn’t help but chuckle at that image. Even in the wilderness, her highness tried to live with luxury; he had to commend her effort at the very least.
“The only reason she would have hurried along is either because she heard or sensed us, discovered others approaching her, or, finally, we are not just getting closer to her but also Chloe. Let's pick up the pace and catch up with them. The quicker we find them, the sooner we can return to Feoh.” With that said, he mounted his horse, and the group continued down their path.
The sound of the horses trotting on the ground as they blew the leftover leaves rustling away. The sight of the grassy meadow as they galloped across the plains, as the wind blew against them. A beautiful sight that made him remember once more that despite all its ugliness, this world still had its fair share of beauties and hidden gems.
‘It's been a while since I saw a sight like this; it’s hard to believe that I’m on another planet entirely.’ Compared to Olga's domain, it was a difference like night and day. This land was brimming with life even more so than the lands around the seven kingdoms themselves. He could see deer galloping by their side in herds.
“Hey, Archer,” Maia called his name, getting his attention away from the mountains and greenery in the distance as he turned to look at the redhead next to him, who now looked a bit uncomfortable to say the least. “Not that I am against what you said before or that I’m particularly worried, but are you sure we should keep ignoring that woman?”
In unison, all four of them turned their heads and gazed at a horse in the distance following them slowly, upon it was a woman riding the creature, silencing them with her features completely hidden once more, now wearing a cloak he had given her, and the leftover veil she had left at the inn.
The woman who had tried to use some kind of charm spell on him in his sleep, the one that was hunted down by the townspeople and their mayor, the one that apparently was found naked after being about to be attacked by a goblin, was following them ever since they left the place.
“As long as she is not getting in our way, then just ignore her.” He said calmly, not really minding her presence, actually. Since she kept her distance for the most part, and where she got that horse, he did not know.
Maia, on the other hand, did not share his sentiment. “Well, hard to ignore her given that this woman tried to seduce you and shag you in your sleep.”
“I wonder about that. I think she wanted me more under her thumb than anything. I don’t think she was going to do something like that unless she had to,” he answered quickly with an awkward chuckle. “Had she tried to do so, then she already had more than enough opportunity to do it when I was under her influence for a brief moment; she was just trying to get control of me, that’s all.”
"Just? That’s all? Well, look at you, Mr. Tough Guy, making light of the situation. You're not making it any easier for me to believe that you have a soft spot for dark elves. Pretty sure when Luu-Luu tried to sneak into your room, you kicked her out the window." The redhead Princess Knight exclaimed. A fair argument, but not exactly the same situation when it came to Luu-Luu.
"Well, first of all, pretty sure she wasn’t trying to sneak in to go after my body. She was trying to sneak in to go after my swords."
"Ah, do you mean Bertha? She still mutters that name in her sleep from time to time… pretty sure in some of her dreams she even uses them to ma—”
“—I don't need to know that part, keep it to yourself." His eyes twitched. The man turned to look at the woman who was grinning at him, fully aware that those weren’t the main swords she had been after.
"I also don’t think she had any malicious intent." To everyone's surprise, Celestine took his side and actually vouched for the girl. "She’s a lost soul, forced into a desperate and dark place where trusting others is not so easy. She didn’t know Archer, nor his morals or his opinion on dark elves, nor would it have been wise for her to assume anything. I believe this was merely a misunderstanding."
"Damn… Well, if Lady Celestine of all people were to defend her like that, then it’s hard for me to keep saying anything. Seriously, now it’s sounding like I’m the bad person here!" Maia finally ended her inquiry, though it looked like she was still a little miffed.
Archer looked toward the blonde elf. Just like after their private talk, she remained calm and composed, behaving exactly as she always had. There wasn’t a trace of anything unusual in her manner. Perhaps, by some miracle, she had actually understood his words?
He had genuinely expected some form of resistance from her, a persistent stubbornness to keep pushing the issue of him being Shirou and her trying to save him again and again. But it didn’t happen. And now, he wasn’t sure whether to feel glad or cautious about this change. This world had already dealt him so many misfortunes one after another that trusting her wouldn’t be simple, but maybe, just maybe, something good could come from it for once.
…And the Beast might actually turn a new leaf.
His luck was never exactly great, that much he knew, but that didn’t mean everything that came his way had to turn to disaster. Not everything had to fail. That sort of thinking was just pessimistic. So, for the moment, he was content. More than that, he was quietly relieved that Celestine continued to genuinely support their efforts in searching for Olga.
But there was one matter that still confused him.
"You don’t recognize her?" he asked.
He’d seen and heard plenty about Mistiora from Olga, and it puzzled him that Celestine didn’t seem familiar with her, especially since Celestine had been Olga’s friend long ago. Had the two never spoken to one another about this?
"Familiar?" Celestine tilted her head to the side in a surprisingly cute manner, then glanced back at Mistiora. She immediately realized she couldn’t see the woman’s face due to the veil. "She does give off a sense of familiarity... but I honestly believe I’ve never met her before. Why? Is there something I should know about her?"
Now it was her turn to question him. Archer simply shook his head.
"Nothing. I guess I was wrong," he replied with a shrug. It didn’t really matter whether she knew Mistiora or not. He supposed she wouldn’t spot a connection since she hadn’t seen her face yet. What puzzled him more was the woman’s reason for tagging along. He had even asked her directly why she tried to control him, but the dark elf gave no answer, just stood there in silence, eyeing them all with quiet wariness.
"I can get rid of her," came an unexpected offer from above. Radomira's voice drifted down as she hovered in the air, her black wings fluttering gently as she had given her horse to the woman in question. Lately, flying has clearly become her preferred mode of travel. She seemed to enjoy it far more than sitting on horseback and then complaining endlessly about her sore back and aching behind.
Her long, luscious purple hair, which had reached the back of her knee, blew at the behest of the wind, her wings, and her flight to keep pace with them had now made it spread about in a chaotic mess all over her body. With several strands getting tangled in her wings, her body, and her clothes, its color constantly flickering between a spectrum of orchid violet and solid purple. Her long spade tail trailed lazily behind her, swishing in and out with the wind.
"You just saved her, and now you want to get rid of her?" Maia asked, though her tone was more curious than accusing.
"I don’t know what I really want with her. Let’s just show her the way to Feoh and give her a letter to pass on to Brynn. She could just give her a place to sleep for the night, and she could be on her way. What’s the point of her even following us? She keeps looking at Archer weirdly… don't fall for her charm!"
“I won't!” The man said defensively to Radomira’s clear chaos of emotions. “I resisted her first attempt, didn't I? And what's with you being in a bad mood today?”
The woman huffed, crossing her arms beneath her chest. Which in her previous form would have looked adorable, but now only served to emphasize her prominent bust, as she lifted them and caused a mouth watering view for any male to kill to see. “I didn't get to sleep with you… she ruined our sleep—hmph!?”
This time, her speech was interrupted by her own hair getting in her face and mouth. Forcing the girl to spit out the strand and make an annoyed face, trying to keep them out of the way.
Seeing the scene, Archer couldn’t help but sigh at that. “Alright, it’s clear you don’t know what to do with your long hair when we get back. Just get back on the horse; it will be easier for you.”
Radomira pouted but said nothing at that, given that not that long ago her hair had mostly been shoulder length and far less of a hassle to maintain. Unconsciously hovering upside down, above him, letting her long hair curtain all around him. Before he could realize it, he was covered in purple, and her black wings occasionally dropped feathers that got mixed in as well.
His hand reached up, taking a moment to untangle the mess, which made her lean more against his touch. The changing shades became more frequent as if to mirror her own emotions, until she heard a snicker, but didn’t move from her spot.
“What is it?” Radomira asked with some slight annoyance due to being distracted by the wonderful sensation just now.
“Pft-hahahaha.” Maia let out a massive laugh at the sight of him covered in hair. “Well, you did ask for long hair before your transformation, now you got it… Now you know why I keep mine short. Less of a hassle, and I'm pretty sure Archer likes them like this.”
“Really!?”
“Yep. Makes it for him to pull on when—”
“No.” The man answered immediately, “She is just making up stuff again.”
“Then what do you like?” Radomira asked, floating upside down and obscuring his vision ahead. “... Hair like Alicia and Olga's?”
“Why those two in particular?” He asked with a dry tone, “Just choose whatever you like. I am sure Brynn would be more than happy to style it for you.”
“You didn't answer my question.”
She sure was serious about this matter, wasn't she… Well, he really did not have any particular favourites. Unfortunately, saying that would only make Radomira be more stubborn in getting an answer from him—so he just picked the first thing that came to mind. “I suppose you can try out twin tails.”
“Twin tails?” The three women around him repeated simultaneously, their reaction making him wonder if he had said anything wrong or if they did not recognise the term. Maia gave it some thought and started to play with her own hair. “I can give that a try and see, mostly stuck with this one due to convenience. Though they would look pretty short.”
Archer shook his head, exasperated. “Anyways, Radomira, when I asked you to let down your hair, I didn’t mean… hah, whatever. Just don't float in front of anyone while they're moving on the road.”
“Why?”
“Because they can’t see where they're going, and crash into something. When on the move, it’s best to be aware of your surroundings. You're lucky there's nothing here.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah, it is. Just stop moving for a bit, I'll do a quick fix for now.” Archer gently ran his hand through the hair, collecting it all in one spot. Maintaining his balance on the moving steed, he held most of her hair with one hand, while using the other to glide his hand along the back of her head, and pulled any lingering hair strands still caught somewhere else.
“Hehehehe~ that tickles~”
“Stop moving around and hold still.”
He noticed her hair changing once more into a brighter shade of purple as if someone added a splash of pink to it. ‘I guess this confirmed my suspicions that her emotions affect her hair color. It looks like her normal is purple.’
Gathering her hair all in one hand, he held his other to project a black scrunchie and placed it around, locking it with a metal clasp.
“There, try turning upwards now.”
“Good. I was starting to feel the blood going into my head.” Radomira did what he said and found her hair tied up into a long ponytail, her hair now one long clean strand. Not catching anything as she twirled her head, and it flew around like a rope.
“Wow, it’s all better!”
“Nice new look, you do nice work, Archer.”
“You look beautiful, Radomira.”
Both Maia and Celestine gushed at her new look, as the Tiefling twirled around.
Maia once again threw him a suspicious stare, “You did that rather smoothly, like someone who has done it plenty of times.”
Well, she was not wrong. Given the last time he had done so was during his last summon, Rin tended to be quite demanding when waking up early and, in general, not a morning person. Come to think of it, most of the women he was involved with had long hair.
Maybe he did have a type…
“Eeeeh, now I want to try the twin tail style too.” Radomira proceeded to fly around, enjoying her new hair.
“So, twin tails huh.” Maia was giving him a strong look. “Was that something one of your past lovers had or something? Wait, did you have someone like that?”
“I believe we already had this conversation.” This was not exactly the best time and place to have a conversation such as this, especially when he recalled having one a while ago. Also, giving in to her words and giving details would just make the woman ask for more and then, knowing her, even ask to make a portrait of them to see what they looked like.
Another major reason why he wanted to avoid this conversation was due to the other people in the group.
Staaaaaare
Both Celestine and Radomira were staring at him. He could feel like the gazes of the two would pierce right through him as if they were trying to force the answers out of him.
“You seem to be enjoying Maia’s company as you always do. I feel like I can’t leave you two alone at all.” Celestine commented with a smile on her face, but her emerald green eyes were conveying a completely different emotion.
“Hey, you were focusing on me just a second ago. I’ll let you play with my hair some more.” Radomira floated in front of him again, trying to get him to focus on her yellow eyes.
“I told you not to block my field of vision.”
They stared at each other, and eventually, while miffed, Radomira realized how serious he was and moved out of the way. “Fine…”
Whatever he was about to say next came to a halt. His ears twitched, and Archer — along with both Celestine, Maia, Radomira, and even Mistiora in the distance — turned their heads sharply to the horizon, where a dark plume of smoke coiled into the sky. It was followed by the unmistakable sounds of combat—clashing metal, raised voices, and magical energy flaring like static through the air.
"A demon army attacking a settlement?" Maia muttered aloud. The suggestion wasn't far-fetched; they had crossed paths with more than a few of those vile creatures on their journey here.
Celestine, however, reacted far more sharply. Her eyes went wide, her lips parting in stunned recognition. "That... that is—" What she meant to say was left unfinished. A figure thundered past them on horseback, speeding straight ahead and kicking up a spray of dirt in her wake. The horses around them whinnied in alarm, hooves stamping, nearly unseating Maia from her saddle.
“Whoa!”
Archer's eyes fixed on Mistiora, riding directly toward the smoke without so much as a pause. No caution. No hesitation. Straight into what was very clearly a battlefield.
"Damn it!" he hissed under his breath, already leaping down from his horse. He hit the ground running, his boots thundering as he sprinted for the treeline ahead. The closer he got, the more the devastation unfolded before him — crumbling ruins from an older age, ancient stone barely holding its shape, and a scorched battlefield littered with ash. Trees crackled and spat embers. The air was thick with smoke, stinging the eyes and lungs.
"What the hell is that woman thinking?!" he muttered, ducking under a blackened branch. He barely knew her. They hadn't exchanged a single conversation, and yet here she was, Olga's sister or not, charging headfirst into a fight that could easily claim her life. Perhaps she wielded magic. Perhaps she was skilled in battle. But based on what he'd seen, how she'd been chased across like prey, there was no sign of either.
"Archer!" Radomira called from behind.
He spun halfway and raised his hand, signaling her to stay back. "Stay with Celestine and Maia! Keep watch on our surroundings and shout for me the moment you see anyone familiar leaving this place!"
"B-But—"
"Just do it! I'll be back soon! Maia, you look after them to make sure that none of them are attacked!" The last thing he needed was to drag them into the chaos ahead. The smoke alone could suffocate Radomira if she flew in and wasn’t careful. And someone needed to stay behind to protect the others.
"Damned fool," he growled, spinning back around. His hands rose, and with a flash of blue light, his twin blades materialized in his grip just in time to intercept a heavy strike. A mercenary or maybe a missionary of sorts, middle-aged and broad-shouldered, came barreling at him with murderous intent. Around the man’s neck hung a large necklace shaped similarly to what the Kuroinu had, but crafted in the visage of a white wolf instead.
"Fuck! Boss, she’s got reinforcements!" the man shouted, though Archer doubted anyone else nearby had heard him.
"I’m not your enemy!" Archer barked, twisting his blade to deflect the next swing. "I’m just here to find—"
His words fell away as the man roared and lunged with brutish force, cutting off any chance of diplomacy.
"I’ll kill you and take your head as a prize for attacking the White Wolves!"
He lurched forward once more, aiming to pull back his greatsword before swinging it down again in a powerful arc, an action that would have easily shattered a lesser weapon and crushed a skull beneath its weight. Yet the result was far from what he expected. A sharp, metallic crack rang out as the flat of his blade struck against a glimmering edge, and the weapon itself trembled from the impact. It had not been blocked by mere steel.
‘An enchanted sword?’ he thought, a bit surprised before his eyes narrowed at the one who had deflected him.
Archer raised an eyebrow. "Well, you're not technically wrong," he replied coolly, his voice devoid of effort or strain. With a quick twirl, he spun the blade in his hand and drove the pommel into the man’s temple, hard enough to send a jolt through his skull. The mercenary’s eyes rolled back, his knees gave way, and he crumpled in a heap on the ground.
Wasting no time, Archer moved deeper into the ruins. More figures stepped into view now and then, occasionally trying to bar his path.
“They do possess some skill,” he thought out loud, ducking a spear aimed at his head, tilting his head just enough for the weapon to miss. “More organized than the Kuroinu, but they're lacking in numbers.”
A swift slash followed, clean and precise, severing the shaft of the spear in half. The head of the weapon dropped harmlessly to the floor, clinking faintly against the stone. Its wielder stood frozen, left holding what amounted to a wooden stick.
"Guh!" he gasped as a boot drove into his midsection, knocking the wind from his lungs. He followed the fate of his comrades, collapsing into unconsciousness.
“How the hell did that girl manage to get this far without being stopped by any of them?” Archer mused silently. “Unless she has some kind of cloaking ability. But if that were the case, she would have used it earlier when the others were chasing her.”
Food for thought, but for now, it was clear the girl hadn’t been captured, nor was she in immediate danger. He met no serious resistance aside from the odd mercenary that decided to confront him. One by one, they fell.
The sound of explosions drew nearer. Flashes of orange and white light occasionally lit the ruins in brief, eerie bursts as he advanced. Finally, in the deepest part of the remnants, where the stone walls had long crumbled and shadows clung stubbornly to the floor, he came upon a lone figure.
A woman.
Hair the same colour as his, long enough to resemble a lion’s mane, twitched slightly with each shallow breath she took. Canine ears stood out from her head, twitching faintly. She was kneeling, her body clearly worn from battle, and a line of blood ran from her forehead down her cheek.
“Hah… hah… hah…” she panted, every breath heavy and ragged.
Physically, she was in poor condition. Yet when her amber eyes found him, they widened. She looked past him, then down at the swords in his hands. The faint glint of blood still clung to the blades, and at that, the anger in her face grew. ‘Olga must have fought her, the wounds on her body are clearly not from a bladed weapon nor blunt force… mostly burns. But if that is the case, then where the hell is that woman?’
“What did you do to them?” she asked sharply, her voice raw with emotion as she pushed herself upright, leaning heavily on her greatsword for support.
A wolf-type demihuman. Likely possessing enhanced strength if she could wield a blade that size with any measure of skill. And more importantly, she matched the descriptions Archer had been given.
‘She must be the one Maia keeps mentioning?’ he wondered. ‘The leader of the White Wolves. Most likely it is here after all, and the tag around these people's necks is just a dead giveaway.’
He spent only a few more seconds scanning the area, yet what he saw deepened his confusion. Something was missing.
“You must be the leader of the Shirōkami, Leona. I'll ask you directly. Where are the dark elves? I'll tell you the same thing as I did to the others: this does not need to end in pointless bloodshed. You cannot afford that outcome, trust me,” he asked flatly, eyes still flicking about for any trace of them. The woman didn’t answer immediately. She coughed, spat out a mouthful of blood, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her stare never leaving him. “As for your allies, like I said, there was no need for bloodshed to them, but they still fought. Still, they are alive and will continue to live if you stop doing whatever you are doing now.”
"Ah, white hair, black and white swords. So you're the one she's been talking about…" the lycan whispered, showing no signs of retreat or even listened to what he had said. Her hand gripped the hilt of her sword, lifting it steadily, the blade catching the faint light. Her movement drew a low, tired sigh from the white-haired former Servant. “Sorry that our meeting had to be this short, but you really should have thought better than to come here. Too bad you came at a bad time, tch.”
"Fine. This is your own choice," he muttered under his breath. “Let’s get this done with.”
"Who the hell said anything about fighting you?" A calm reply. Her eyes sharpened into a cold gaze that could freeze the air around her. "As much as I’d like to teach you a lesson for hurting my men, I’ll stay true to the contract and the mission I was given. My first task is to recover the cargo first; she won't escape me this easily."
With that, she stabbed her sword into the ground. The moment the tip sank into the earth, a sudden, searing light erupted outward, illuminating the ruins in a brilliant flash. The floor beneath his boots started to glow, mana rushing upward in spiraling threads, gathering into a whirlpool of energy. That exact same pulse as before washed over him, and the sensation immediately snapped, warning bells went off in Archer's mind.
Wasting no time, he conjured another weapon into his hand, a jagged dagger designed for one purpose alone: to sever and undo any form of magecraft. Not recognizing the pattern nor what it meant with this world's magical system—he was not willing to find out. His grip tightened, preparing to plunge it down and sever the spell before it could complete.
But the moment he moved, the ground beneath his feet vanished.
"What…?"
The wind exploded around him, a powerful gust ripping through his cloak as the world changed in a blink. The old ruins were gone. In their place stretched an endless forest far below. Green canopy, trees, the sky above he was falling, and falling fast, toward the treetops rushing to meet him at a breakneck speed.
"Teleportation!" he cursed, his voice barely audible over the roar of air. Not even surprised at the discovery of such a high-level magecraft existing in this world, and found in the middle of nowhere!
He had no time to think, the distance to the ground shrinking with terrifying speed. With or without reinforcement, a fall from this height could maim him at best or kill him at worst. His thoughts raced even faster than his descent, calculating, adjusting, and about to use his magecraft for the right tool until a burst of wind came, violent and sudden, as something formed around him. A shimmering sphere of translucent energy wrapped him in its center, cushioning his fall like a protective shell. He crashed through the forest, the dome cracking branches and smashing apart trunks, scattering leaves and debris in every direction.
"Ugh—!"
Though the sphere had softened the impact, the landing was far from painless. His body rebounded harshly, the force sending shockwaves through his limbs. It hurt. A lot. Enough to make him grit his teeth and groan through the pain. The barrier flickered and then dissolved into fading wisps of mana.
“Oof!”
He continued to fall, roll down a hill, and nearly get himself entangled in several vines around him. Able to instead use them to slow down his fall.
He opened his eyes to find a face staring down at him, “Well, look what we have here.” Her amber eyes were glowing faintly in the filtered light as she uttered those words. Her hair, damp with sweat and dirt, hung in strands that tickled his face like a silken curtain. A tired, battle-worn pride filled her gaze. Dust streaked her cheeks. There were bruises, dried blood, and scratches across her skin, yet none of it diminished her beauty.
Especially when the upper part of her armor was completely gone, leaving her chest fully exposed for him to see. Yet weirdly enough, she did not try to kill him for that; she did not even seem to care at all.
Her hand seized the collar of his armor and gave it a sharp tug, pulling him up just enough that their faces were only an inch apart. He could feel her breath on his skin, even catch the faint scent she carried, something wild and floral tangled with dust and mana.
Her lips brushed the edge of his ear as she spoke in a whisper.
"You wasted your time. I managed to save Chloe and myself without you. And now, my dear little Archer… I've saved you, too. We're even now."
There was a strange glint of excitement in Olga's voice. Faint, but unmistakably there. It struck him speechless, leaving him unsure whether to respond or remain silent, wondering how to respond to Olga’s words. But the moment passed quickly.
She collapsed against him, unconscious, her weight resting across his chest. Yet the faintest smile lingered on her lips.
What the hell just happened…
---------------------
The Archer X Grace and Anna image link should be restored in a bit.
2025-07-25 05:44:39 +0000 UTC
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Ah, forgot to make this post yesterday.
So, my account is back and I'm currently writing and hopefully have everything updated as usual.
An Archer's Promise should be updated late tomorrow and then after that Toloveru followed by A Fake Familiar.
Sorry for the lateness everyone! This entire thing was stressful and made it hard to write for a moment.
I even had plans to make a special One-Shot story in the end of the month with the free time I managed to have from doing double updates but all that is wasted and I'll have to push it back a bit.
2025-07-23 16:17:59 +0000 UTC
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Yo, how's everyone doing?
This ain't really an art commission from me, rather it's a gift from a reader/patron who goes by Archer Supporter who has sent me a few images of the scene in with Grace, Archer and Anna.I really appreciated his gesture and wanted to share them with y'all with his permission of course.
So, if you liked it, be sure to thank Archer Supporter for these!
Thanks Archer Supporter! 😁
Download link: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/19e3LgKt288SJTdIjimzyXXDFhx7IKTHV
2025-07-16 12:17:33 +0000 UTC
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Not beta read yet.
I feel like I should stop saying 'in a few hours' as I always jinx myself and something goes wrong making me spend waaaaayyyy more time than I anticipated to finish the chapter...
Long chapter.
Next update is An Archer's Promise.
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.
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-Underworld-
Okay, this officially sealed the deal. Not in the romantic sense, of course, if anything, I now found myself caught in a situation more dangerous than any rating game, life-or-death battle, or demonic encounter I’d ever endured. No, this time it wasn’t my life on the line. It was something far more delicate; my dignity as a man and the last few embers of what remained of my purity.
"Get the hell away from me, you crazy woman!"
"Come on, it's just a kiss! There should still be traces of saliva on your skin if it hasn’t dried off too much. If I’m fast enough, I can still get a taste!"
"Are you even hearing what you’re saying!? There’s a limit to how creepy someone can be, you absolute psychopath of a siscon! Did you just lick my finger!?"
"Then stop pressing your hand against my face!"
"No, you stop trying to rape me, you lunatic!"
"Why are you so against a kiss from a beautiful woman like me? Don’t tell me it’s just because Gabriel kissed you in secret that everything else no longer compares to her! Is that it? Then I’ll prove otherwise!"
"This went from you trying to get a taste of Sona’s totally platonic kiss to now trying to beat Gabriel at it?! How insane are you, woman!?"
As anyone with functioning eyes could see, I was now locked in a desperate struggle for survival against none other than one of the infamous Maou. Not that the title made much difference right now, considering how utterly deranged she looked. I had just come out of a nerve-wracking rating game that I somehow survived, barely, thanks to a technicality. I was supposed to be preparing mentally to face Sairaorg. Instead, I hadn’t even had the chance to breathe before this woman dragged me into a lounge and started practically forcing herself on me. For the last few minutes I just kept forcing her away with strength I did not even know I possessed.
My eyes darted toward the two spectators at the far end of the room, who were, infuriatingly, still lounging around and chatting like this was a casual gathering, as if I wasn’t over here screaming for my life.
"Oi, Sirzechs! And you too, Ajuka! Help me get your fellow Maou off me! How can you two just sit there and ignore my very real, very desperate pleas for help!?" I shouted at the top of my lungs, cursing these two a thousand times in my mind in a span of a few seconds.
After the rating game against Sona, the place she dragged me to was indeed the lounge room, a place where the so-called VIPs gathered. This particular area was apparently only accessible to the Maou class devils. Convenient, since I had something rather important to tell them. But none of that mattered right now, because I first needed to get out of this nightmare.
"Hahaha, you're just overreacting, Hachi-kun," Sirzechs said with that same easygoing smile he always wore when life was about to become unbearable for me. "Serafall is simply congratulating you in her own unique way. Consider it a special gift from one of your most devoted fans."
Since when did she become my most devoted fan? I did not want that one bit! That damned redhead spoke so cheerfully, acting like he had no clue how ridiculous this was, but I could see through him. His whole laid-back act was just another excuse to throw me into chaos and call it entertainment. I was not some half-dead court jester meant to perform for his amusement just because he was bored.
Fortunately, I came prepared. I had a trump card, a powerful one. Something even someone like Sirzechs, the strongest devil in the Underworld, would not take lightly. Something that could move him to action and possibly save me from my current horror.
With swift and decisive action, I shoved Serafall away from me and reached into the inside pocket of my vest. My fingers closed around the precious cargo I kept hidden there. I whipped it out and flashed it in his direction. "Grant my request and I shall bestow upon you these three pictures I took of Rias sleeping in three different sets of adorable fluffy animal onesie pajamas. And in the third one, she’s wearing one of your official merchandi—"
I didn’t even need to finish. The photos vanished from my hand in an instant. One second I had them, the next they were gone. And in the same breath, Serafall was yanked back by a towering Sirzechs whose previously mellow expression had been replaced by something far more intense.
"This is not the time to be playing around, Serafall," he said, voice clipped with rare authority. "Our friend here is clearly exhausted after the rating game and needs a moment to rest. You’re disturbing him, and as both his brother-in-law and close friend, I cannot stand by and let this continue."
Fucking two faced liar.
Also, since when the hell did I even become his brother-in-law? Apparently, this guy was already halfway through marrying me into his family before I’d even received a formal invitation. At this point, I wasn’t so much shocked as resigned. I just rolled my eyes and imagined how others would react, particularly Sona. I wondered how she’d feel seeing her oh-so-powerful sister, one of the feared Four Maou, being held by the collar like a misbehaving cat by Sirzechs, all while trying to claw her way back to me and whimpering through fake tears about how I had stolen her precious Sona’s first kiss. Something about it not being fair. Or sacred. Or something equally ridiculous.
Honestly, I was starting to wonder if becoming a powerful devil, especially of the super or ultimate class variety, eventually caused this sort of mental shift. Maybe power came bundled with brain-rot. With that unsettling theory floating in my head, I turned to Ajuka, who stood there wearing the expression of someone who had witnessed this line of thinking emerge in real time.
"Don’t lump me in with these idiots. I’m perfectly normal." He said dryly, taking a sip of his wine whilst trying to look completely unaffected.
"Sure."
Yeah, no. Not convinced at all.
"Hah. Anyway, I’ve got some worrying news I think the three of you should hear as soon as possible given it involves people from the Old Satan Faction and a guy who is called Rizevim." My tone and the name must have shifted because both Sirzechs and Serafall instantly stopped fooling around. Their postures straightened, and they turned their full attention toward me. The change in atmosphere was immediate, and for once, I appreciated it.
So, I didn’t waste time. I told them everything about my recent encounter with the lunatic devil Rizevim and what had happened to me before I managed to escape. I kept my tone calm and steady, not letting the weight of what I was saying color my voice too much, but the longer I spoke, the more serious their expressions became. Serafall, in particular, underwent the most drastic transformation. Her earlier whimpering and jealous ranting had completely vanished, replaced by a look of a person that differed greatly from her usual self. The air around her turned cold and heavy, a murderous intent radiating from her that seemed to distort even the space near her — okay maybe that last part was just my imagination.
"Let me have a look."
Her voice, too, was no longer childish. It was lower, deeper, and carried the maturity of a different person entirely. I had to do a double take just to make sure my ears had not started malfunctioning as well. The shift reminded me all too well of how Raynare used to sound as Yuuma before revealing her true self.
This time, I didn’t block her. I allowed her to approach. With a simple flick of her finger, the clothes on my body vanished in an instant. Accompanied by a powerful surge of demonic energy that could have easily restrained me earlier had she been serious. Serafall stepped in and examined me closely. Ajuka followed suit, his expression just as unreadable as before. They observed in silence for several seconds, exchanging subtle glances filled with unspoken thoughts. I could feel a cold bead of sweat form on my neck.
"Hopefully it's not bad news."
Even though I’d kept myself mostly calm throughout, their prolonged silence started to chip away at my nerves. I braced myself for something ridiculous, like hearing that Vritra had been ripped out of me entirely.
"Well," Ajuka finally said, "it’s neither good news nor bad news. For one thing, there’s nothing missing inside you… so to speak."
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. That alone was enough to give me some relief. Their answer might not have been a clear diagnosis, but at least it confirmed that Vritra was still within me. Something was simply blocking the connection.
"He most likely disrupted your link to your Sacred Gear," Ajuka continued, "but that man shouldn’t have the ability to remove it, or even seal it away permanently, no matter how powerful he is. Unless we’re dealing with entities on the level of the Dragon Gods or the Christian God himself, you're still carrying Vritra within you. Removing him from you would have instantly killed you, and since you are alive then rest assured that the dragon is still within. He also cannot kill Vritra since that also means you would die."
Old information, that part I was already aware of for quite a while. "Then it’s only a matter of time before I get my connection back, isn’t it?"
"Logically, yes. But it would be best if we continue observing your state for a while longer.”
While that did seem like a wonderful idea on the surface, one important question instantly came to my mind.
"Just how long are we talking here?"
"A few weeks or a month at best."
As soon as those words left her mouth, the entire proposal was tossed out the window. I shook my head with a clear refusal. "Sorry, I can’t stay in the Underworld for that long. I’ve already got a pile of responsibilities to take care of back on the surface, and I’ve already been gone far too long because of this Rating Game competition. Spending another month down here wouldn’t be ideal by any stretch. If it’s only a matter of observation, then I can send you a daily report myself. I’ll keep you updated on my condition and any noticeable changes. Or, if you prefer, you can send someone to keep an eye on me from a distance and have them send you reports instead."
"I see no problem with that."
Surprisingly, Ajuka agreed to the suggestion without the slightest hint of resistance. Not that I was going to argue with him — he clearly understood that I wasn’t just being difficult. I meant it. I had things I couldn’t put off any longer. My responsibilities as a club leader weren’t something I could keep avoiding, especially when I’d already shoved most of the burden onto Aika's shoulders.
Even though I had been trying to make amends for that recently, disappearing into the Underworld for several more weeks would undo everything I had worked to patch up. Not to mention, I had this gnawing feeling that the longer I remained down here, the more likely it was I’d get dragged into another headache-inducing mess. Rizevim wasn’t the only person I suspected of having it out for me. The Astaroth heir seemed way too interested in my business for it to be a coincidence, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was in some kind of twisted alliance with Rizevim behind the scenes.
Even after I shared that suspicion and explained how one of Diodora’s peerage members had been the one to send me into that trap, none of the faces around me changed much. There was a flicker of surprise, a shadow of concern, especially on Ajuka’s usually unreadable face, but no one moved or spoke with any urgency.
"All right then. I should be heading back to prepare for the upcoming Rating Game against Sairaorg."
"Wait, you’re actually planning on going through with that? Are you completely insane!?" Serafall exclaimed in disbelief, her reaction was immediate, and she practically threw herself in front of the exit like a living roadblock, arms outstretched as though I couldn’t just teleport past her with a thought.
"You might’ve had a chance back when you still had your Sacred Gear, but without it? That’s suicide. You won’t even touch him."
A bit of confidence would have been helpful, then again… this was Sairaorg we were talking about.
"Well, you know me. It’s not like I’m about to pull a magical power-up out of nowhere like Issei’s been doing lately. Even if I still had Vritra with me, I doubt it would have made much of a difference. You’ve seen what Sairaorg can do. The guy is terrifying."
"Then why even bother facing him at all?" Sirzechs asked curiously.
"Because he won’t leave me alone if I don’t."
I didn’t need to think about the answer. It was already carved into my thoughts.
"Even if I try explaining that I’m currently unable to use my Sacred Gear, he’ll just wait until I get it back and come knocking again. He’s not the type to let go of something once he’s interested. If I want to avoid future problems after leaving the Underworld, I have to take a risk now. Call it a reckless move or whatever you like, but I’m just using a dangerous and painful shortcut to dodge a hundred future headaches."
They all looked at me like I had gone off the deep end. Honestly, I wasn’t even going to argue with that reaction. Even though I knew this plan sounded like a disaster. But the only real consequences would be a few bruises, maybe a black eye, and a temporary loss of dignity, not exactly anything Asia couldn’t heal with her magic in five minutes. That girl really was a blessing. One gentle touch and all the pain vanished like it never happened.
"Anyway, enough about me for a second. Are you seriously going to do something about Diodora?" I narrowed my gaze and looked directly at Ajuka, because I wasn’t about to let this go. "The fact that I was sent into that hellhole by one of his peerage members should be incriminating enough to justify at least an arrest and a full investigation. I want to believe something optimistic, like him being immediately thrown in chains or locked up in a cold cell — especially since he’s from the same family as you. But I know better than to expect that."
I exhaled and leaned back slightly.
"At the very least, something has to be done, right?"
Because I had long since accepted that fairness was a joke, whether in my world or this one. Especially in the Underworld, where anyone even remotely related to the Satans, be they brothers, sisters , cousins, or distant relatives, always got special treatment. No matter what they did.
Riser was proof enough and most importantly, so was Rias herself. The fact that her Peerage consisted of so many powerful and unique individuals was clear evidence on its own, and I wasn't naive enough to think Ajuka wouldn’t show a degree of favoritism or quiet leniency to Diodora, especially given that they were both from the Astaroth lineage. That kind of family tie meant something in their world, no matter how much everyone pretended otherwise.
"You have my word. I’ll look into this matter personally, and if he’s truly involved with the Old Satan Faction, then he’ll be punished accordingly."
"That’s all I ask. Just, in the meantime, keep him away from anyone I know. If he really was behind that stunt, there’s no telling who he might try it with next."
Yes, Gabriel was currently keeping an eye on Asia, making sure nothing happened to her. But being extra cautious never hurt anyone, and frankly, it helped me sleep better.
"Alright then, come on. Just announce the final matchup already. Let’s get this over with. I’m tired, and I just want to go home."
I was preparing to leave, shifting my weight, half-distracted, when I felt a hand suddenly land on my shoulder. And before I had time to turn, a warm pair of lips pressed against my cheek followed by a quick one on my lips.
Caught completely off guard, I turned quickly and saw Serafall step back with a bright, almost theatrical grin on her face. Her hands were hidden neatly behind her back, her expression far too pleased with herself.
"There! Now that counts as an indirect kiss with Sona! But you can also think of it as a little good-luck blessing from me~!"
I just stood there, one hand lingering on my cheek as the meaning of what had just happened slowly sank in. A hundred thoughts flew through my head, most of them scrambled and unhelpful. Eventually, I looked at her carefully, then narrowed my eyes. "You’re always full of surprises. But if you don’t mind me asking, do you actually have feelings for me? And I don’t mean the vague kind… I’m talking about romantic interests. So don’t give me some vague answer or redirect the question into a joke. And don’t even try to say you’re doing this to get one over on Gabriel. You’re petty, sure, but you’re not that petty."
I asked her directly. Because deep down, I knew that if I ignored this now, if I brushed it under the rug or tried to pretend it didn’t matter, it would only grow more complicated. I was already in an official relationship with Rias and Akeno. There were rumors, persistent, annoying ones, that I’d slept with Xenovia, Kalawarna and Raynare. Now, to top it off, a Valkyrie was apparently involved.
If a Satan joined that list, the political consequences alone would be enough to bury me. And just like that, the dream I’d had about Venelana and Grayfia came rushing back with horrifying clarity. The guilt clamped down fast, especially with Sirzechs and Ajuka standing nearby. If either of them found out about that dream, I didn’t want to imagine what kind of reaction I’d have to face.
‘Urgh, I have truly become a degenerate pervert just as bad as Issei.’ The old me would have grown disgusted by the current me for sure, but then again… so was I.
"Hmm."
Surprisingly, or perhaps not surprisingly at all, Serafall didn’t flinch. She didn’t blush or stutter or smack me in the face while shouting "idiot" before sprinting off like a badly written tsundere anime heroine. Instead, she simply tapped her chin with one finger and stared at me with a calm and amused smile.
"You know, I’ve been a Satan for just as long as Ajuka and Sirzechs and not once have I seriously considered romance. With all the responsibility of keeping peace among the pantheons, representing our faction, and making sure my little sister had the freedom to live happily, finding love just never ranked high on the list. Even Ajuka had a fling back in the day and trust me he was more clingy than Sirzechs."
I knew it! Something wrong with all of them when it came to extremes!
"I would really appreciate it if you erased that part of my past from your memory," Ajuka said from behind her, his voice resigned and hollow like a man revisiting a bad decision from long ago. There was definitely a story there, and one I absolutely planned to dig into another time. But for now, I turned my attention back to Serafall.
"And you never had anyone? No one you were even remotely interested in? Not even a little crush at some point? Seems hard to believe, considering how long you’ve been around."
The woman chuckled mischievously, "Hehehe, is it that hard to believe? I wouldn't exactly call it a crush, but there were definitely times I got curious. I used to ask myself all sorts of what-if questions, imagining different lives I could’ve pursued instead of this one. Something less rigid, maybe even reckless. But the one thing I genuinely did fall for was my love for magical girls and everything tied to them. That obsession, along with Sona, brought me a kind of happiness that no type of love ever managed to give me."
"That does not really answer my question now, does it?"
"No, it doesn't," she said with a tiny smirk, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. "But I’m trying to find the right words. The kind that explains what I feel without turning it into something overcomplicated or dramatic."
She paused again, this time longer, thinking carefully. Then, slowly, she looked up and met my eyes.
"When I first saw you, I found you interesting. Not in a thunderbolt-to-the-heart way, just... you caught my attention. Then that whole chess match happened where you beat Sona. You know, technically speaking, if you’d been a devil back then, the outcome would’ve had you engaged to her. And weirdly enough, I was happy that didn’t happen at the time. But as more time passed and I kept running into you, I started wondering if maybe it wouldn't have been so bad. Being around you started to feel comfortable, and even the thought of being involved in that life... it stopped sounding ridiculous and started sounding strangely appealing."
The more she spoke, the more familiar it all started to feel. Like I’d heard these lines somewhere before. Her words echoed a conversation I once had with a certain fallen angel devil hybrid, the kind who spoke of harems and having her own group of people she cared for. The way Serafall was talking now, it was impossible not to draw some similarities between the two. Same tone, same strange romantic logic.
"Why? Do you perhaps not like the idea of me being interested in you?" she asked curiously, tilting her head slightly.
"It’s not that I dislike it. It’s more that I want to be clear on what you actually mean. There’s a big difference between liking someone in a genuine, emotional sense, and liking someone in a more... let’s say, in a physical way, without the emotional part attached. They’re two very different things, and I just want to make sure where you stand or if I’m completely misreading this situation."
She tilted her head back slightly, giving a small, almost unreadable expression. "Would you say no and push me away if I said that I have feelings for you?"
"I would say that I’m already committed to two women who demand a lot of my time and attention. And that, honestly, I don’t feel the same level of emotion for you as I do for them. That’s the truth." It might’ve sounded cold, but it was the most honest way I could put it. Sugarcoating it would just make things worse later. We knew each other well enough. We got along. We laughed, we talked, we even enjoyed each other’s company on occasion. But it wasn’t the same. I didn’t have the same kind of emotional attachment with her that I did with the other two. I respected her, appreciated her presence, and even found her obsession with magical girls weirdly entertaining. The way she teased Sona was annoying in theory but amusing in practice.
"Let’s be honest. If I tried to pursue you, or if I accepted your feelings, assuming you truly had them, I wouldn’t be able to treat you the same as I treat the others. Another issue is that we don’t see each other all that often. You have your duties as a Satan. I have my own obligations. It wouldn’t be fair. Not to you, and not to them either."
"Sometimes it’s hard to see you as a young boy, Hachiman," Serafall said using my full name which felt weird coming from this person, her voice more thoughtful than anything else. There was no hint of disappointment, no sign of frustration. "At times, you genuinely sound like an old man."
"I have been told the same thing for quite a while, at this point just get used to treating me as an old man trapped in the body of a teenage boy. Also, thinking logically and occasionally adding in a bit of hard-earned perspective isn’t something exclusive to old people," I replied.
"Then, would that mean," she asked, voice lighter now, "you wouldn’t have any issue if we had a physical relationship? No emotions involved. Just two people letting out some steam?"
“...”
Now it was my turn to be a little surprised by just how direct she was. I glanced sideways at the two other members who had gone quiet inside the room, only to find Sirzechs and Ajuka casually seated, each with a small plate of snacks in hand. They were watching us like we were the climax of some midday drama. These two… seriously.
"Well, I do find you physically attractive, so don’t get me wrong there," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "I’m not going to lie to myself and pretend I’m some saint who’s pure of heart and immune to temptation. That’d be too generous of a description, and frankly, too dishonest. But given how things are now, I don’t really see anything happening unless I'm too drunk to think anymore. And if I’m being honest, I’m pretty sure you’re not all that interested in me either, perhaps more like seeing a new toy to play with. You’re probably just saying this for the sake of saying it, or maybe testing the waters to see how I’d react."
I wasn’t under any illusion that all the women around me were secretly in love with me. That sort of delusion belonged to a very specific kind of protagonist, the dense, oblivious, and inexplicably popular kind.
"Great, that’s all I needed to know! Have fun on your next training game, and stay safe, Hachiman!"
For some reason… maybe because of my paranoia or just because it was Serafall — I felt like she may have misunderstood my words and was planning something in that twisted mind of hers.
{Break}
Something didn’t sit right.
[Sairaorg Bael and his Peerage are requested to head to the main zone in order for the Rating Game to officially start.]
Grayfia’s monotonous voice echoed across the chamber, crisp and final, catching the young man off guard. His eyes flicked to the blonde-haired girl standing next to him, clearly expecting answers.
"Shouldn’t this be happening tomorrow? I mean, it’s the finals. They can’t just start it on the same day as the semis," he asked, voice holding a trace of disbelief. He had watched the match between Hachiman and Sona, watched and silently admired how two brilliant minds faced one another. One had shown exceptional tactical awareness, the other had proven herself just as capable when pushed to a corner with a powerful Pawn. Facing either of them would be no small feat for your standard Peerage. He had been excited at the idea, but not like this.
His Queen, Kuisha, hummed, a small thoughtful sound escaping her lips. As the strategist of the peerage, if anyone had a theory, it would be her.
His ever loyal friend gave his words some thought. "Think about the match. It was obvious that Hachiman and his team didn’t really go through a strenuous fight. Aside from that fallen angel, the rest of his peerage came out more or less in top shape. The organizers probably saw no reason to delay the finals by a day. And they wouldn't make a call like this without consulting him first, not with his connections to the Gremory."
The more he listened, the more her explanation started to sound plausible. Still, something about it felt off. Hachiman didn’t seem like someone who would rush into another match without planning. He was certain of that after just being around him enough to get a good grasp on his personality.
"Maybe he’s riding the high from that last battle. A clean win like that can boost morale. He’s probably aiming to use similar tactics, banking on exploiting a technicality again."
"I… I am not sure, it just does not sound like the guy. Even if it's the case, that really depends on whether we’re even thrown into that kind of scenario in the first place," he said, arms crossed, his expression turning more serious. "There’s no guarantee we’ll end up in a match where knocking down a building ends the game."
"Does it matter, really?" Kuisha cut in, her voice calm and confident. "We can handle any situation. Doesn’t matter how it’s presented or what rules they throw at us — you never backed away from similar fights before.”
"I suppose you’re right," he said, brushing off the nagging feeling that clung to the back of his thoughts like an itch he couldn’t quite reach. Straightening up, he focused on the fight ahead.
"Don’t worry. No matter what he has planned, I doubt it’ll hinder your success rate, not with me here," a man said as he approached. Red hair, golden eyes and a mask to match the latter that hid some of his features. “If things get a bit messy then you always have me to help.”
“I can always count on you, Regulus.” he gave a short nod, the words easing some of the tension from his shoulders. "I guess I’m just being too cautious, letting my past impressions of him cloud my mind. I shouldn’t be doing that. Regardless, I’m actually looking forward to this match. I know he has the potential to be even stronger if he’s properly motivated. And in this fight, I’m sure we’ll push each other past our limits."
The grin on his face widened, his fist tightening with anticipation. Kuisha stood nearby, watching him with a calm gaze along with the rest of the peerage members who had long grown used to their leader’s attitude before battle.
"All right, everyone. Same approach as always. Stick to the usual strategy and we’ll come out on top," he began, his tone turning commanding. "Don’t underestimate him, not under any circumstances. You saw what he pulled off in his previous matches, especially against the Sitri heiress. Stay grouped and avoid spreading out. I’d also prefer if you leave the opening phase to me. I’ll handle it."
As he spoke, they stepped onto the summoning circle, their bodies fading from sight.
In the blink of an eye, they reappeared inside a stone-walled room, narrow windows letting in faint light. Looking out, they saw a barren rocky wasteland stretching in every direction. The terrain was brutal, flat with only scattered boulders and no real cover, very different from the urban mall setting of the earlier match.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Kuisha asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
"He’ll most likely send his strongest one after you first; probably Nekoshou, Kuroka. Even though we haven’t seen much of what she can do, she was a former SSS-class criminal. An ultimate-class devil who’s trained in both Senjutsu and Touki, just like you. Underestimating her would be naive… then there is also the one who holds a Holy Sword, even if she's a human, those who have wielded that blade in the past have been known to pose a threat even against the strongest of Devils. And then there’s the fallen angels in his peerage, some capable of using light energy. Not to mention that six-winged angel on his side, rumored to wield holy energy too."
His Queen certainly did her homework, listing off each person and their main strengths that could be a danger to him. As devils, no matter how powerful they were, exposure to that kind of energy was always a risk. Too much, and even the strongest could fall victim to poisoning or worse.
"Of course there’s a risk," he replied, calm and unmoved. "It’s not the first time we’ve gone up against enemies with powers that are inherently dangerous to us. And it’s not the first time we’ve come out on top. You’re now being more cautious than usual, just like me, Kuisha."
She hesitated, then shook her head. "Then I'll say the same thing as you did, I’m just being cautious, same as always. But if you’re confident, then maybe I’m just overthinking things." She gave him a small smile, faint but genuine. "Go out there and have fun. And please, don't deliberately try to hold back just because you want the fight to go on for longer."
"Of course," he said with a grin that revealed nothing but certainty.
This time, there was no drawn-out meeting, no deep tactical breakdown. Just the quiet readiness before a storm. Cracking his knuckles, he stepped outside and took in the view.
They had been transported into what looked like a weathered castle. The stone under his feet was rough and uneven, the air thin and dry. Without hesitation, he jumped high, landing smoothly at the very top of the structure. He sat down cross-legged, arms resting on his knees, placing himself right in full view — no effort made to hide.
"All right then, Hachiman," he muttered to himself, a grin tugging at his lips. "Show me what you’ve got."
He had to admit it. This was something he had quietly looked forward to ever since that joint mission they had taken together to capture the remnants of the Old Satan Faction — particularly Katarea Leviathan. Back then, it was clear the young man wasn’t much of a battle junkie, not like himself. But even then, his power had been evident. And their training since then had only made it more apparent just how far the boy could go.
Now he wanted to see how far Hachiman had come.
[The Rating Game will commence in ten seconds. All groups are advised to stand ready,] Grayfia’s voice echoed through the air, cool and steady.
His heart pounded once, twice. Excitement flared through his veins like fire, spreading through his chest and climbing toward his head. A fight worth remembering was about to begin.
As if responding to the ticking sound of some internal clock, he waited exactly ten seconds. Not nine. Not eleven. Ten. The moment the buzzer sounded, his eyes snapped open. Without missing a beat, he rose, knees bent slightly, then launched himself forward with a smooth burst of momentum that landed him squarely in the middle of the field, open ground, no cover, no tricks. Just him and the silence.
"All right then, I'm here. Let's see just what you have in store, Hachiman."
He crossed his arms, eyes fixed on the castle looming in the distance where the other group should have been teleported into. While he waited for movement, for even the faintest hint of action, he kept himself alert. His senses extended outward, picking up the subtlest shifts in the air, the tiniest vibrations beneath his feet. The kind of awareness one gained not through training manuals or tutors, but from experience — the kind that got burned into the brain through repeated, unwanted exposure to life-or-death encounters he faced in his youth whilst training.
Five minutes passed.
Still nothing.
That same nagging feeling crept up from the back of his mind again, that vague tickle behind the eyes that told him something was off.
"Hm. Got cold feet?" he muttered, voice loud enough to carry. "Surely, planning out a strategy doesn't take that much time. You've already had half an hour, and honestly, I doubt you needed even that long."
The silence that followed was less dramatic and more awkward. Until footsteps. Distant at first then drawing closer and closer. He turned his head and, to his surprise, saw the black-haired youth finally approaching.
Hands in his pockets. Slouched shoulders. No entourage. No support. Just Hachiman, walking across the field like he had all the time in the world and nothing better to do.
They stopped a few meters apart.
Hachiman raised a hand and gave a lazy wave. "Yo."
"…"
If someone had dropped a pin, it would’ve been audible. The wind passed between them with the kind of exaggerated whistle you’d only hear in movies. Somewhere, somehow, a tumbleweed might’ve rolled by, but that was probably just the mood tricking the mind.
Sairaorg raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, expression blank. Trying, and failing, to make sense of the guy in front of him.
"Hey there," he eventually replied, tone somewhere between curious and forced civility. He followed it with a half-smile that was more genuine than it should’ve been.
"You’re one hell of a guy, aren’t you?" Hachiman said as he leaned casually against a nearby rock. "How the hell is someone like you even part of the younger generation? Wiping out entire opposing teams with all that absurd power. I’d call you a freak, but knowing your background… Well, never mind. I’ll still call you a freak. It’s completely unfair. Unless the other side’s got a souped-up monster who can go toe-to-toe with literal dragons, there's no way to counter you. Winning against you is practically impossible."
He spoke calmly, almost too casually for someone standing across from an opponent known for ripping people apart. There was no hostility, no intensity. Just tired honesty, as if he had long accepted the absurdity of the situation. It made the Devil wonder if the boy was going to concede the match and give up.
"How's your mum?"
That one caught him off-guard. He blinked, then chuckled under his breath and gave a small nod.
"She is… better than before. I’m still grateful to Miss Kuroma for what she did."
"From what I remember from that horny cat herself, that illness isn’t permanent and was treatable with someone versed in Senjutsu — pretty sure the Bael clan could have asked someone like Sun Wukong for help."
He clenched his fist, not from anger, but from frustration, sadness, longing and desperation. The hunger to see something precious restored. To see her open her eyes. To hear her voice again, to see that smile not locked in sleep for years.
He would do anything for that. She was one of the few reasons he’d made it this far.
"Hopefully." His voice dipped slightly. "I’m sorry, Hachiman. But I’m determined to face you, regardless of what you’ve done for me. Even if you're an important benefactor, I can’t throw this match just because you helped me. That’d be unfair to you… and to me."
"Oh, that wasn’t what I was going for. That’s a pretty awful strategy, don’t you think? Using your mother as leverage so someone goes easy on you? That's not just low, it’s pathetic. Even by my standards." Hachiman shook his head and looked out toward the field behind him, which made Sairaorg release a sigh of relief that they were not going down that path. "No, I brought her up because it’s something to talk about. Also because you seem… happier than when I first saw you."
The devil let out a small laugh. "Is it that obvious?"
"People who smile too much, who burn with enough positive energy to even make the sun feel inadequate — they’re usually hiding something. You’re not exactly Asia, but you and she aren’t that different the more I think about it. She smiled to avoid becoming a burden to others. You smile for similar reasons, but also to fuel yourself. Pain, guilt, anger; it drives you. Now, let’s say in a scenario where mother wakes up just now and you get the information. I wonder… will that fuel disappear? Or will it change into something else entirely?"
"So, you’re saying I’ll grow weaker?"
Hachiman shrugged, "That's up to you to decide. I'm just curious what path you'll take. Let's be honest, your entire life will shift with your mother no longer comatosed and fully involved in your daily life. Things won’t stay the same. So, what’ll it be? Will you use that drive to protect her at all costs, channel it into becoming stronger? Or will you ease off, step back from the grind, and spend more time with her — try to make up for all the time you lost?"
He actually gave it some genuine thought.
Sure, he’d trained out of spite at first, to prove his father and grandfather wrong. To prove he wasn’t weak. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t grown to enjoy the process. The discipline, the focus, the rhythm of it, it had become part of his routine, a grounding constant in a world that shifted around him. Giving that up completely was out of the question. But maybe doing it less, cutting back just enough to be there for her, that seemed like a path he might take.
"Maybe. Why do you ask?"
"No reason really. Just curious."
That earned a small chuckle.
Here they were, supposed to be having a serious one-on-one, a proper battle to test each other’s limits and instead they were standing in the middle of a battlefield having a heartfelt conversation. The kind of conversation that would make the audience on the outside groan in exasperation. One could almost hear the collective facepalms, the impatient shouting.
"You know," Hachiman began, "if you ever come visit Kuoh with her, drop by. You can make a request to the Service Club. We’ll take you around, show you a few places where you two can hang out, get some proper mother-son bonding time. I know a few restaurants too. Saizeriya’s the easy pick, but knowing how bougie you devils can be, maybe I’ll dig up something a little fancier. Damn, I sound like a spokesperson from a tourist agency. Anyway, just… give me a heads-up before you show up unannounced."
Sairaorg gave a quiet nod with genuine gratitude. "I will. I promise."
With a yawn and a slow stretch, Hachiman stepped away from the stone, his limbs loosening up before he began walking to the opposite side of the field. The distance between them now set, the mood shifted.
"All right then. Let’s get this over with. You always said you wanted to fight me at full power. I’ll give you that now. But after this, you have to promise me something."
"What is it?"
"Stop chasing me around trying to fight all the time. It’s annoying. I’m not a battle junkie like you."
That request took him by surprise, but still, not unreasonable. "Of course. Let’s go all out, and I’ll keep my end of the deal."
The fish eyed man sighed, rubbing his face which made it look like he had just woken up from a long sleep. "You know it's even more unfair since even if I had everyone here winning would still not be possible. Hah… this is going to hurt. Bones breaking is never something one can just get used to, only someone like that damned witch can say that."
He heard Hachiman mutter the words right before he shifted his stance. Just as the movement completed, a complex series of magic circles began turning above his opponent’s palm.
"Absolute Silence."
A dome rapidly expanded outward. It wasn’t the same as his Sacred Gear’s usual field, but something subtler. A translucent barrier surrounded them, and as soon as it closed in, all sound vanished. Not muffled, gone.
He could still feel the rush of his heartbeat, the pulse in his ears, but he couldn’t hear a thing. The world had gone completely mute, then he braced himself immediately.
Hachiman vanished.
No build-up. No dramatic glow or shout. Just gone. Likely a teleportation spell. ‘Strange... he’s not using his Sacred Gear yet. Maybe saving it for the final blow? Ah, that must be why he used this spell, to activate it without me knowing… I never knew you can't even sense another source of energy with this spell. It blocks everything except sight.’
A dangerous spell disguised as a harmless one, easily able to fool anyone who dared to underestimate it. His thoughts raced, eyes scanning, but without sound cues he had to trust pure instinct.
‘Behind me!’
Even though the words never left his lips, his mouth moved as if they had. But it didn’t matter. He’d already pivoted.
His senses screamed at him, warning of danger. His fist flew backward in a sharp, practiced motion, ready to meet his opponent with full force. But instead of flesh or bone, it struck something solid.
Eh?
‘A shield? Since when does he use a shield? I thought he had a spea—?’
Without much of a surprise, the shield shattered instantly, unable to withstand the sheer force behind his strike. Fragments of the barrier splintered like glass, the resistance barely lasting half a second. It was obvious now, it hadn’t been meant to block anything. Just a regular shield, nothing enchanted, nothing reinforced. More like a formality than a real defense.
But before he could register why that had been the case, his fist was already closing in on Hachiman.
The boy didn’t move.
He didn’t dodge, didn’t flinch, didn’t even lift a hand to defend himself. He just stood there, looking straight at him, face calm without even acknowledging the incoming strike.
‘Illusion magic? A clone? Some kind of projection spell?’
Too many thoughts flooded in at once. Given the unshaken look on Hachiman’s face, it had to be some kind of trick. There was no way he was standing there without a plan. No one stared down an attack like that without a trap in mind.
But then his fist made contact.
And instead of the resistance of air or some magical decoy, he felt it. The sickening crunch of flesh. The unmistakable snap of bone.
"What!?"
The sound should have echoed across the entire field, a thunderclap, a brutal reminder of the impact. But under the dome of Absolute Silence, nothing followed.
Hachiman’s body was launched backward like a ragdoll, limbs flailing for an instant before they went limp. He tore through several boulders in a straight, merciless line, until he vanished under a collapsing mountain of stone. Dust and rubble exploded outward in all directions, blanketing the space where he had once stood.
The silence shattered.
[Hikigaya Hachiman’s team has been eliminated following the defeat of their leader. The winner of this Rating Game and the victor of the young Devils Gathering competition is Sairaorg Bael and his peerage who have taken the first spot.]
“... N-No.”
Hearing that announcement, he just stood there stunned, neither feeling happy or disappointed — instead just completely confused.
“What the fuck? I do not acknowledge this!”
[All members will be returned in a few moments ]
"I DO NOT ACKNOWLEDGE THIS WIN, COME BACK! Hachiman!" Those were Sairaorg's last words before he and everyone else were teleported away while those outside watching the Rating Game just stood there, stunned.
{Break}
-???-
I rarely recall the last time when I woke up with such a mind-shattering headache, no, I did, it was during the time when I was facing that hateful goddess and barely managed to survive. Though to be fair, I did indeed nearly have my head cracked open from that punch alone, but it was the best and quickest way to be eliminated without much pain.
That in itself came as a weird relief—that I had actually lost. Lost clean. Not through some backhanded miracle or sudden twist that forced me into an undeserved win. That kind of plot armor wasn’t something I wanted, and frankly, I was pretty sure mine had run out a long time ago and was still cooling off somewhere in the void.
"Urgh…"
My eyes creaked open to the faint, unpleasant stench of alcohol and sterile ointments, the kind used for disinfecting battle wounds. Bandages were wrapped across part of my face. That alone felt off. Wasn’t the rating game system supposed to prevent serious injury? Or at the very least teleport you out before you ended up half-dead?
Not that it really mattered. I had other options. Azazel probably had a cabinet full of phoenix tears, and Ravel? She always carried a few for emergencies. Hell, even Riser owed me one after I bailed him out during that whole mess with his playboy lifestyle. I had access. It was fine.
"Home?"
I muttered the word like it might vanish if I said it too loudly. The ceiling above was familiar. My own. Not some Underworld infirmary or plush chamber in the Gremory estate. Just my plain ceiling, complete with that one weird stain in the corner I always forgot to clean.
"Haah… home at last."
It hadn’t even been that long since I’d left Kuoh, but somehow it felt like a lifetime. I’d missed this place more than I cared to admit. Sure, the fancy rooms were cool, but they never felt like mine. The silence, the over-polished floors, the way even the walls looked too expensive to touch, it was too much. This was better.
"Coffee…"
Like a zombie sniffing out its first victim, my throat practically begged for it. That sweet, sugary rush. The one true comfort of the modern world. I was about to drag myself out of bed when a can of Super Coffee appeared in front of me, complete with a straw.
"Eh?"
I blinked, neck protesting the motion as I turned my head and came to witness something I never thought possible.
"This has to be a nightmare."
"Stop saying stupid things, dipshit."
The voice snapped me out of my daze.
Standing there, looking about as out of place as a nun in a strip club, who hugged her body so tightly that I could even see the outline of her nipples making it obvious there was no bra underneath, was the fallen angel herself, Raynare.
Holding the coffee.
Wearing a nurse uniform.
"Don’t give me that look," she said, eyeing me as though I were a particularly slow-witted patient. "I didn’t poison it. Honestly, considering how rotten you are on the inside, I doubt poison would even work."
"...Why are you dressed like that?"
I ignored her jabs for now, mostly because I kind of agreed with them, but the more pressing issue was the outfit. It was tight. Way too tight. So tight that even through the fabric I could see the outline of things I really shouldn’t be able to see, which made it obvious she wasn’t even wearing a bra underneath. Ironically, it covered more than her usual outfit but felt somehow more indecent.
She clicked her tongue and pointed across the room.
"Not my idea. Blame her."
I followed her finger and immediately regretted it.
"K-Kala…?"
The blue-haired angel looked up and smiled brightly, as if my waking up had cured every ailment in the world.
"Oh good, I’m so happy you’re awake! You’ve been out cold for nearly two days!"
"Yeah, that’s… a long time. But more importantly…"
I looked down.
"...Why did you take off my pants… and where is my underwear?”
Panic set in.
What the hell did they do to my body while I was unconscious? Weren’t those things supposed to only happen in hentai?
Unfortunately, the confusion only grew when the door creaked open.
Akeno walked in, wearing a nurse uniform just as tight as the others, followed by a very familiar Valkyrie who clutched a package to her chest like it might explode any second. Her face was crimson, and her entire body shook with visible embarrassment.
"M-M-Miss Himejima, this cannot be appropriate! Making him wear these disgracefully expensive things… Why can’t we just use the boxers we found in his wardrobe?"
"Because," Akeno said without a shred of shame, "you’ll look much better in these. They’re sex—Hachi-kun!"
Her voice went from sultry to ecstatic in an instant. The moment her eyes landed on me, she sprinted across the room and leapt onto the bed, tackling me into a bear hug that nearly crushed the breath out of me.
Now I understood.
Now it all made sense.
Everyone was acting weird because of this pervert!
And also… what the hell was Rossweisse doing in Kuoh!?
“Let's celebrate this occasion, I'll get the alcohol!” I wanted to stop Kalawarna from doing that but was literally incapable of moving and saying anything as my mouth had been blocked off by a pair of soft lips.
The headache became much worse…
2025-07-16 11:54:16 +0000 UTC
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Beta read and Co written by Gamercrusher55.
8k words...
Snafu gonna be updated next in a few hours.
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-Fuyuki, Miyama Town, Between Central Area and Foreign Residential District, Road to the Matou Residence-
There was a wave, no, a storm of tangled emotions surging within Shirou's chest as he twisted the accelerator of the motorbike. The city around him blurred into streaks of color and movement, buildings flashing by like the scenery in a fever dream as he tore through the shortest possible path leading to the Matou manor.
Where in his current state, all sense of caution had vanished. He could only focus on the single question pounding in his skull; why would she do something like this? "Did I do something wrong? Did I say something I shouldn't have?"
The questions repeated over and over in his mind like a drumbeat as he replayed their night together, her touch, her voice, the quiet moments, the things she said when she thought no one was listening. None of it, not a single word or gesture, had hinted at her planning to vanish the next morning. Now he found himself staring into space, recalling the letter she left behind. His face tightened, jaw clenching.
"You didn’t need to go this far to protect me, Sakura. I don’t regret anything I did. I’m not afraid of what comes next. So why?"
Why would she shoulder this alone? Why was she so convinced he needed to be protected? Did she really think he couldn't endure what lay ahead? He had no plans to die. Not now. Not anytime soon. He would survive, as he always had.
His emotions were boiling, bubbling over into something sharper, something that felt too close to helplessness. A creeping sense of déjà vu settled in his chest. He’d gone down this path before, back when he marched up to that manor to confront Sakura and Shinji to force open its doors, only to be greeted for the first time face to face with that inhuman old man she called her grandfather. Everything about him feeling disturbing, fake and just not human at all — like a demon wearing skin. Seeing him along with the worms within her body, he moved so fast, pulling her out of that place.
And now she was going back to it.
“Still, I won’t come over to take Sakura away from you or anything else, so you can rest easy. Rather, you will be the one who will escort her straight back to our doorstep, that I can guarantee you. For now, take great care of her, she’ll need it.”
Those being the words Zouken had spoken to him with so much certainty as if the old man had seen the future itself. Not really a threat since he didn’t even put any effort into it. Saying that Sakura would come back on her own and that he didn’t even need to stop him from taking her away back then.
Shirou never thought too much in depth about that, putting it off as the old man was under the belief that he would buckle under the pressure of being a Master and bring her back to save his own skin.
Or maybe the old man even thought of using several means to force him into a corner and have him give up. He did not give it much thought cause he knew just how stubborn he was, and had no intention of giving her up.
"Did he force her? He must have."
The roar of the engine drowned everything, until it didn’t.
Amidst the wind and his own rage and the rattling thrum of the bike, Shirou felt it. A pair of arms wrapping gently around his waist, soft and light, with a delicate warmth pressing into his back. A sensation not just physical, but familiar…calming.
"Don't blame yourself."
Despite everything, all the noise, the wind, the rush of the road, her voice cut through it all.
Clear.
Unshaken.
Rider's tone slipped past the chaos like a knife through silk.
"You had nothing to do with this.”
He didn’t answer immediately. The corners of his mouth curled bitterly into a smile that held no joy, only pain.
"She went back because she wanted to protect me? What else does that mean other than I’ve failed at what I was trying to do? It was supposed to be the other way around. I was meant to protect her... not like this."
"Just because you’re willing to risk your life for others doesn’t mean they can’t do the same for you."
"But that’s…I…I don’t want anything to happen to the people I care about because of me!"
He shouted the words, hands gripping the handles so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"I don’t want her risking her life for me, or anyone else doing it either. Whether it’s you or Sakura or anyone. I’m sick and tired of seeing people suffering in front of me. If it means I can stop it even a little then I don’t mind being the one to do it instead."
Rider didn’t speak again. Instead, she leaned her head gently against his back, the warmth of her presence pressing against him for a few moments more, offering something quiet and wordless, comfort perhaps before fading away.
"Many would argue against that," she said softly, her voice the last thing he heard before she returned to her spiritual form.
Shirou had no answer for her.
He focused forward, the wind now stinging his face like needles as he ascended the familiar mountain road. The sun had begun its rise, casting gold and crimson across the sky, yet the manor’s path remained cold and lifeless, isolated from the city’s growing noise.
He wasn’t going to slow down. This time, he would crash straight through the gates if he had to, let whatever wards or bounded fields they’d put in place try to stop him. ‘If Zouken proves to be a bigger problem than I can handle then I’ll have Rider take Sakura away while I try to buy them time or maybe the opposite can work too. But there are still those worms in her heart and body… familiars? That thing can't be inside her for no ordinary reason so he should be able to track her down. I'll have to figure out how to remove it. Maybe I can find someone who knows how.’
Unfortunately, that in itself was an issue he was not sure how to solve. With the only person he could ask help from was Luvia and Bazett, but the latter had practically disappeared and Luvia already mentioned being unable to help him.
As he mulled in his thoughts, his ears then picked up a sound coming from above, a deep thunderous roar echoing high up in the sky as from his position he saw several streaks of light flying above his head. Leaving a thin trail of smoke “Eh?” Taken aback, he found himself at a loss on what resembled… no way…
“Are those… missiles?”
The very words he muttered made little sense to him as why would such a thing even appear in Fuyuki of all places? He blinked his eyes several times rubbing with one hand to make sure he wasn’t seeing things… even going so far as to wonder if this was not an illusion cast by a bounded field or Caster trying to fool him. The projectiles moved across the sky, piercing the clouds and getting closer and closer to the point that Shirou realized that those very same missiles were heading straight for the region he was heading towards at the moment!
“—!”
From the other side of the sky, rising from the earth and opposing the missiles were several other streaks of red lights that flew at incredible speed. Nearly twice as fast and immediately intercepting the attack mid air releasing an enormous explosion with a ball of fire expanding above. “Argh!” A few seconds later the shockwave reached the ground bringing along loud explosions ringing his ears with multiple ear piecing booms.
The lights blinded him to the point he was forced to avert his eyes while he could feel the vibration across his body. The resounding explosion rang in his ears in a deafening manner, forcing him to stop the motorcycle, as he covered his ears with his hands.
‘So loud… the ringing won’t stop…’
As if in denouncement to his pleas, the resulting shockwaves spread throughout all of Fuyuki, before he realized that every car alarm had been set off by the shockwave, all of them ringing at the threat. Machines went off all over, sirens could be heard everywhere, and he could hear people screaming in every direction.
When the ringing of the explosion finally subsided, and the light began to die down a little he finally removed his hands from his head, and adjusting to the light opened his eyes.
‘This was on a completely different level from when I fire my guns or set off explosives, it’s as if the whole sky lit on fire. Where the heck did that even come… from…’
His eyes widened when he finally took note of the trajectory of the shots… and from where they were intercepted.
“Those were aimed at the Manor!” He noted, with the black smoke and leftovers of the explosion being too close to where the manor should be and several more sounds of explosion coming from beyond the mountain. “No, Sakura! Rider, go ahead and see what happened!”
Feeling a gust of wind blow back from his head, he didn’t wait to know his order had been carried out. Getting the motorcycle back on the road, and reinforced everything about it, along with his eyes to increase his dynamic vision. He revved the engine.
With the bike exploding forward he blasted in a straight line, moving past everything in his way to get to the mansion. Luckily there were no cars yet on the road, because if there were he may have blasted through them, not stopping until finally the mansion, and wreckage came into vague sight.
Unfortunately, the first thing he noticed as he neared the manor wasn’t the building itself, but the thick, curling smoke rising high into the morning sky. His heart skipped a beat, dread stabbing into his chest like an iron spike. He twisted the throttle harder, the engine screaming beneath him as the blur of the road narrowed into focus.
The full scene finally came into view and what he saw made him falter. Just for a second, he lost control of the bike, the tires wobbling dangerously.
The Matou manor was in flames. Towering fire that burned around certain parts of the structure with several other areas of the forest around having been destroyed with the fire spreading at an almost unnatural pace. The sight made his chest tighten, feeling his breath catch as panic clawed its way up his throat.
The fire didn’t just catch his attention as all the neighbors in the area left the safety of their homes to see what had happened.
“What in the world just happened!?”
“Are we under attack… is it a war?”
“Get inside, right now!”
“Waaaaaah!”
All the panic, screams, and jeers brought back painful memories from that moment ten years ago… back in the Great Fuyuki Fire.
"Please no… please no… please no."
Each repetition was softer than the last, more desperate, more choked with disbelief.
He subconsciously noted that it didn’t seem like there were any bodies yet, the damage mostly being contained… As he drove closer toward the flames like a moth, while everyone around him panicked. Many of the people caught in it instinctively felt the urge to get as far away as possible leaving the center of the original point of impact. The closer he got the less people there were until finally he was the only one standing in front of the burning mansion, surrounded by a field of smoke that completely cut off the outside world.
But just as he was about to reach the gates, something else snatched his attention. From the corner of his eye, a glint flashed for just an instant — his instincts screamed.
In a split-second reaction, he yanked the handlebars and slammed on the brakes. The tires screeched, kicking up dust and gravel as the bike skidded to a halt several meters away from the gate where not even a second later, several arrows crashed into the ground just ahead, burying themselves into the earth with a dull thud. They landed where he would have been had he kept riding…
“What…was that?”
The gates had already been destroyed, their twisted metal remains lying in charred pieces across the ground. Shirou leapt off the bike, fully intent on charging in. But as soon as he made a move forward, another arrow stabbed the soil at his feet, forcing him to freeze.
“Those were warning shots you’d do best not to get closer.”
“—!”
He could barely see them, but even now running ahead and forgoing all sense of preservation was something he realized would be too foolish even for him. The power and speed behind those arrows alone looked no less powerful than actual bullets, the more frustrating part was being unable to discern where they even came from.
"Who's there!?” he called out, voice hoarse, managing to keep his rationality as he kept looking around trying to spot the shooter. “Come out now!”
"Hoh… what an unusual uninvited guest we have today, so boldly striding toward his own death," came a voice, smooth, sarcastic, and faintly amused. Sounding a bit gruff, that of a man whom he had yet to spot and most definitely the one behind those arrows from earlier. "You're a Magus, aren’t you? I must admit, I’m not sure whether to call you brave or just foolish for rushing headfirst into this sort of situation."
The tone sent a chill down Shirou’s spine. This time sounding much closer than before, he immediately stepped back and raised his gun, scanning for the speaker.
Blue light began to gather in the air ahead, glowing particles swirling together, coalescing into a humanoid form. The figure that took shape was tall, lean, with skin a shade darker than most, dressed in striking black-and-red armor. His hair was stark white, and his grey eyes looking back at golden brown without betraying any emotions. The massive black bow that was clutched in one of his hands was dematerialized into blue particles right before his eyes.
Everything about him, his presence, his bearing, the sheer weight of the aura he gave off and most importantly the way he appeared was similar to how Rider told Shirou one thing.
Not human.
"A… Servant." he whispered under his breath, barely audible even to himself.
His gaze flicked between the burning house and the imposing figure before him. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the gun tighter, raising it once more and aiming directly for the man’s head.
"A Servant," he repeated, louder and more certain of himself this time.
The one standing in front of him, however, didn’t react with hostility immediately. Instead, his amused expression shifted, briefly, into one of confusion and something faintly resembling surprise as he stared at the redheaded boy now aiming a firearm at him. That look only lasted a heartbeat before his expression returned to a mostly blank stare though a faint frown visible.
"How clever of you to figure that out," the man said dryly. "Not that I thought I was hiding it particularly well. And since you already know what I am, I’m beginning to lean toward the 'foolish' part of my earlier statement, considering you're pointing that thing at me as though it could actually harm me. Just looking at you, I can tell you aren't even going to back away."
Bang!
The gun fired with a sharp report, the bullet slicing through the air straight toward the Servant’s face. The latter which titled his head to the side slightly, The round whizzed past him, barely grazing a strand of white hair. It didn’t even ruffle his expression. The man stayed perfectly still, unbothered, as if the bullet had been nothing more than a passing breeze.
Shirou’s chest rose and fell rapidly, taking a moment to control his breathing. ‘A Servant here!? Since Rider is with me, Berserker’s with Illya, and Caster’s already summoned then that leaves only a few left. It can't be Tohsaka’s Servant, she wouldn’t send a Servant here to attack Sakura so soon after what happened yesterday. That bow from earlier would definitely make him an Archer, but who sent him here?’
Several questions popped within his mind, thought best to stay focused on why he came here in the first place. “Where is Sakura… and who sent you here and for what purpose?”
“...”
"I’m asking you, where is Sakura? What did you do to her!?"
The questions came out sounding much more calmer this time. His mind was barely holding itself together, his thoughts spinning, most of them urging him to just keep shooting until something gave way but he knew that it would only be a waste of ammo.
"Quite rude of you to speak to me like that, isn’t it?" the man, most likely an Archer, said, his tone dipped a rising amount of amusement. "You meet someone for the first time and decide to greet them with gunfire? Honestly, you should learn some manners."
The light grin lingered on the stranger’s face, calm and unfazed.
"As for your questions… whether I am friend or foe, or who I am tasked to kill at the moment. Does it even matter?” He answered with a shrug. “I’m under no obligation to answer you. And I certainly don’t have to answer your other question. You’d best turn around and walk away, boy. Otherwise, I will consider you an enemy and treat you accordingly.You're invited to empty the clip within that gun not that it’ll do much. Go play hero somewhere else."
A taunt? Hard to say but it certainly did feel like one. But one thing for certain was that there was just something about this person that just irked him. Perhaps the way he spoke to him, sounding almost condescending but not completely Or maybe it was just that he was an enemy Servant, standing between him, and someone he cared about.
"Trying to act stubborn in front of a Servant with nothing but a standard pistol… Should I also call you suicidal on top of being an idiot? You are starting to fit that mold quite perfectly."
Shirou didn’t bother answering, understanding that letting a few words sway him in such a situation was not exactly ideal. Instead, he pulled the trigger again and again. The gun barked out round after round, each bullet slicing through the air toward its target.
The white-haired man didn’t flinch.
His hand moved in a blur. A sudden flash of black steel appeared in his grasp, a strange sword lined with glowing red hexagonal patterns. With the flat of the blade, he casually deflected the bullets, sending them spinning to the ground in shredded fragments of metal.
He looked at Shirou, unimpressed.
But the latter had already moved ahead, having used the volley of bullets as cover rather than having any hopes of causing any damage with those, closing the distance between them in an instant. The pistol thrown away from his hands, replaced by a projected katana that shimmered with newly-formed light, the curved blade already swinging upward in a powerful arc.
The weapon sliced through the air, trailing sparks—
Clang!
A sound like metal crashing into stone echoed through the clearing, followed by a sudden eruption of sparks. His arms trembled, the shaking from the weapon coming to a sudden halt nearly making him drop it, Shirou’s eyes narrowed with surprise at what was a sword that had appeared, sleek, flawless, and pure white that caught his strike with insulting ease. The two weapons pressed against each other, steel grinding on steel.
Was he fighting against an Archer or a Saber?
"No matter what weapon you project or what tactic you imagine might help," the Servant said coolly, his voice never rising, "the simple fact remains. You're facing a Servant. And using any of these weapons yourself won't bring you victory even against a competent Magus."
The white blade pushed down, cutting through his katana as if it were made of nothing more than paper. The weapon split cleanly in two, the broken shards clattering to the ground in a scatter of metallic chimes across the stone path before dispensing into motes or blue light. Shirou staggered, his stance disrupted, his breath ragged and heart hammering against his ribs.
Yet the Servant hadn’t taken a single step forward.
Despite the situation, he found his eyes drifting back to the swords now pointed at him. Both blades, one white, one black, gleamed under the dull sky, longer than he had first realized.
‘Are these... his Noble Phantasms?’
He just was not fully certain.
Even though he had already encountered two Servants before this moment, he had never truly seen a Noble Phantasm in action so closely. Rider wielded chained daggers, but she had confirmed to him that they weren’t her true Noble Phantasms. While she had hinted to him that her blindfold was a Noble Phantasm it was passive, and didn’t exude any force until its activation.
For Caster, she had launched a barrage of advanced spells during their brief confrontation, any of which could have annihilated a mage had he not been extremely careful. Still, according to Rider, that woman had only been testing the waters — probing the situation. She hadn’t even come close to showing her full hand. Those spells weren’t Noble Phantasms; they were just what she was capable of as a regular Magus, if anything that just showed the gulf between the two of them.
As for Berserker, there was that unnerving sword of stones carved into something resembling a mixture between a greatsword and with a club but overall just an abomination made to crudely resemble a one sided bladed weapon. Having been on the receiving end of it, he figured there to be a high chance of that weapon being a Noble Phantasm.
But, back then most of his attention was on Illya more than anything else.
But now he knew without fail what was standing before him. The power radiating off those two twin falchion-like blades, as he took in everything about them… they way their mere existence more than cried out their legend and majesty. They were above anything he had ever seen before, on par with the Heroic Spirit’s themselves.
"Gah!"
The sight of the twin blades vanished from Shirou’s thoughts when a powerful knee drove into his abdomen. The force knocked the wind out of him, hurling him backward. He slid across the gravel, his feet scraping and stumbling as he struggled to stay upright.
‘That wasn’t as painful as Rider’s kick,’ he thought through gritted teeth, still very painful though. Even one strike like that was enough to break ribs if he wasn’t careful. Rider’s kicks, on the other hand, could knock him unconscious outright and that was with her claiming she was holding back considerably.
"Enough of this."
His eyes widened at the voice. His enemy’s voice. It sounded far too close. A heavy shadow fell over him, and when Shirou looked up, he saw the Servant standing above him, sword raised high. He hadn’t even seen him move. It was as if he had materialized in front of him.
‘Duck, Master.’
His body obeyed without thought. He dropped down just as a rush of wind swept over him and the piercing sound of steel clashing against steel filled the air. Archer groaned, not from exertion, but from pain, as he was knocked backward, having crossed both blades in front of himself to block the incoming strike.
Rider stood where Shirou had been moments ago, blindfolded and gaze locked onto her opponent. Holding her chained daggers in each hand. "Are you alright, Master?" she asked, never taking her focus off the enemy.
"I’ll survive. Other than a bruise in the morning, I’m mostly fine." He answered back after a second of catching his breath, checking the state of his body and looking out for any internal hemorrhaging or bleeding having the check-ups practically become a habit at this point. By this point, he had nearly lost count of how many blows he’d taken from Servants and the wounds they left behind. The bruises and markings hadn't yet faded, and even the damage from Berserker’s earlier assault still hadn’t fully healed.
"Don’t do that again. Don't rush at Servant like that."
A sound advice, the redhead knew that, "I just couldn’t think of what else to do. Besides, it’s alright, I survived, didn’t I? And it’s not like I’m facing Berserk—"
"Shirou."
Her voice sliced cleanly through his sentence, sharper than he’d expected. Was she... angry? She hadn’t even turned toward him, but the sudden shift in tone sent a chill down his spine. He immediately realized he’d spoken without thinking, this making him recall the words she mentioned after his fight against Berserker and coming to the realization that she must have not been happy by him practically doing the same thing not even a full day later.
"Yeah… sorry. I won’t do that again. Got too caught up in my emotions," he admitted quickly, rising to his feet. He rolled his shoulders and rotated his arms and legs, checking that everything still moved properly.
"I thought that was an Archer class Servant at first, but now I’m not entirely sure." he said, letting his gaze drift back toward their opponent. The man was still holding both swords, but Shirou remembered clearly, he had been using a bow not long ago.
"He was using ranged attacks before and now he’s wielding blades. That makes him either Saber or an Archer. Doesn’t matter which. We need to find Sakura as soon as possible. We have to either take him out or get past him, Rider."
"You're quite eager to get rid of me, aren't you?" The Servant spoke in a tone that carried no anger, only a faint touch of amusement. Whether it was genuine or a subtle mockery, he couldn’t tell. Either way, the boy had already decided to treat him as a threat. "I'm afraid that won't be so easy. Honestly, I'm not particularly interested in why you're here or why you're searching for that particular person, but I’ll still advise you once more to leave this area. The earlier commotion is not something that has not been noticed by half the city and this much noise so early in the morning is bound to draw attention, even if we are a good distance from the city."
"We won’t leave without finding Sakura, and making sure she’s okay."
Shirou’s voice was resolute.
The Servant responded with a brief scoff.
"I was not asking."
Rider’s hand rose with the dagger glinting from the fire, “And neither were we.” In an instant, his figure vanished from the spot alongside Rider’s. The next moment was a blur of motion and sound, the sharp clash of steel against steel ringing out in rapid succession.
Rider took the offensive, lunging forward in a blur and attempting to drive her dagger straight into her opponent’s chest. She was fast, her movements as fluid as a stream. But the mysterious Servant moved with equal swiftness, deflecting her strike with practiced ease. His black and white blades moved in perfect tandem, crossing each other as he aimed a swift slash across her face.
Yet Rider was even more agile than she looked. She twisted mid-air, her body contorting with precision, and avoided the blade entirely, the swords didn’t so much as graze her hair. Then, without pause, she brought her heel around in a wide, punishing arc, aiming to strike the side of the Servant’s head with the full force of her spinning kick.
Shirou could barely follow the motion with his eyes, he could tell how well-timed and vicious the counter was. But even that wasn’t enough.
The silver-gray eyed warrior proved once again that his insight wasn’t something to be taken lightly. He raised one forearm, holding his blade parallel along the limb like a makeshift shield. The weapon caught the brunt of the impact, metal meeting muscle and bone. ‘He may be keeping up with her but it's obvious that Rider is stronger and faster.’
The exchange didn’t stop. Over the next few seconds, it repeated again and again, Rider striking with more strength similar to her confrontation against Berserker, Archer parrying each blow with increasing amounts of effort before countering in return.
The rapid rhythm of their movements was dizzying.
Even if Shirou had drawn his gun again, he doubted he would have been able to land a single shot on the red mantled Servant. The man moved too quickly, reacting before an aim could be properly taken. And even if he somehow did hit him, the damage would likely be minimal. A ranged attack might slow him down, but not stop him. ‘But it should be able to distract him.’
Grabbing his gun from the ground, he quickly opened the magazine and removed a few bullets, concentrating carefully as he pushed a small amount of magical energy into each one. He applied reinforcement magic, hoping to increase their effectiveness—even if only by the smallest margin. Once the bullets had been prepared, he reloaded them and fired in a quick burst directly at the dual wielder.
"Hn?"
This time, a few bullets grazed past his face, but none of them struck true. It was as if he had eyes in the back of his head, dodging every shot with fluid precision. One of the bullets was even sliced in half mid-air, the clean cut flashing briefly in the light before falling to the ground.
Fortunately, that alone served its purpose well enough. It provided Rider with an opening, and she took it without hesitation. She slipped past his shifting guard and landed a powerful kick into his gut.
"Argh!"
Another groan escaped the man’s lips as he staggered back, though not without retaliating. With a sweeping motion, he hurled both of his swords in wide arcs toward the shooter.
"Shirou!"
The blades spun through the air, whistling as they came. He raised his hands instinctively, projecting two fresh copies of the same twin katanas into his grasp. If he couldn’t destroy the incoming blades, then he could at least try to deflect them.
But before they could reach him, a blur of motion swept past.
A single swipe sent both of the man’s swords clattering away. The air rustled with the flutter of fabric and the clink of metal.
His eyes caught a glimpse of long blonde hair tied into a tight bun, a striking blue dress framed by glinting silver armor.
"Another Servant?"
The woman turned her head, her expression calm, her clear green eyes meeting his.
"Are you hurt?" she asked.
For a moment his mind stalled. A bright smooth face, with emerald green eyes that reminded him of spring grassfields. He couldn’t help but stare at her, mesmerized by her regality — a type of beauty that differed from Rider's. Strangely enough, a similar thought had occurred to him before when meeting a certain person who he met recently. The more time he spent staring at her, the more he felt the sinking feeling he had seen her before and then it all clicked into place.
He blurted out the first name that came to his mind startled.
"Gray?"
"Gnk… Uh… "
She flinched at the name, her gaze shifting away as she quickly turned her attention back to Archer.
"I'm afraid you’ve mistaken me for someone else," she replied softly.
"Shirou!"
Another voice called out, and before he could respond, a hand grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back from the battlefield. He stumbled slightly, turning to look—and found himself staring into a second, equally familiar face.
"Wait…. T-Two Grays?"
This one he was certain was the Gray he knew. Her cloak, her tone, even the way she said his name; all of it matched the person he remembered.
"Why do you look so..."
But now, everything about the girl changed. The once silvery-white hair was now pure gold and blonde, and her eyes were now glowing a deeper color of green matching those of the Servant who had just saved him. A twin? No... That didn’t make sense. He was almost sure the other was a Servant. And if that were true, they couldn’t possibly be siblings.
"What the hell is going on here?"
One of Gray's eyebrows twitched, "I’ll explain later. Right now, we need to leave. It’s too dangerous to stay here." She tugged at his arm again, trying to pull him away. But Shirou stood his ground, resisting her effort.
"I can’t," he said firmly. "Not until I find Sakura."
His eyes darted back to the field, where the standoff had shifted. All three Servants were present now. Rather than facing each other, the two women had aligned themselves against the white-haired man. Clearly, they had decided they weren’t enemies.
"Well, today’s not my lucky day," Their opponent said flatly. Shirou blinked in surprise, as did the others. The swords he had thrown returned to his hands, summoned back with a faint shimmer. But he didn’t raise them to continue the fight. "A two-against-one match. While I’m no pushover, I’ll admit the odds aren’t exactly in my favor. Then again, I’ve never been the type to shy away from a dangerous situation; if either of you still intends to fight, that is."
Gray already had her answer and shook her head giving it. "Saber, we're leaving!"
"Yes, Master!"
"Wait, you can’t be serious! We still have—"
"She’s fine, brat," The recently confirmed Archer interrupted. He dismissed his weapons and turned his back to them. "She’s fine and alive. If I wanted her dead I wouldn’t have blocked that strike. What you need to worry about is yourself first. It looks like things are about to get hectic around here."
And with that, his body began to fade, dissolving into spirit form as he vanished entirely, leaving them standing amidst the scorched battlefield while parts of the mansion crackled in the distance showing signs of weakening. Most of the structure remained intact with the fire damaging only certain parts. Gritting his teeth, Shirou slammed his fist onto the ground, frustration tightening his jaw. His eyes shifted quickly toward Rider.
"Is she still inside the manor? Is she okay?"
The woman disappeared from her spot, a few seconds passing before she returned and shook her head. "The place is empty. There are still a few of Zouken’s familiars crawling around, but most of them have been taken care of by the fire itself or wriggled away. No signs of human remains anywhere. The insides aren't that damaged compared to the outside, most likely the building will survive with the damage only being mostly on the surface. She’s definitely still alive but most likely hiding somewhere else," Rider said calmly. After pausing in thought for a moment she continued. "Shirou, I agree with them… we should leave. We can always search for Sakura again later. What matters now is that she’s alive."
Listening to Rider’s words, he let out a long, heavy sigh. His anger, while not gone, had quieted now that the worst-case scenario seemed less likely. And with Archer’s parting words still lingering in his mind, another possibility surfaced.
"Was Archer… summoned by Zouken? Or by Sakura?"
He found it hard to believe Shinji had anything to do with it — he lacked the magical capacity, and frankly, the competence. Sakura had far more magical potential, but Zouken’s influence couldn’t be ruled out either. Still, if either of them had summoned the Servant, and if the way Archer had spoken so assuredly had given any indication, then one thing was certain—Sakura was alive.
"Let’s go, then."
As he picked up his motorcycle he heard the sirens of fire trucks and other government vehicles in the distance approaching them.
{Break}
-Fuyuki, Miyama Town, Northern End, Traditional District, Emiya Residence-
The city was in a panic.
The streets were filled with people and vehicles who’d gone out to see what that explosion was, their eyes to the flaming smoke cloud in the distance, slowly vanishing. It became such a nightmare to move that Rider picked up the motorbike and him, and took a roundabout way back to their home, doing everything to avoid any passing glances. Following behind them was the now new pair of Saber carrying Gray as if it was nothing.
Honestly Servant’s really were ridiculously strong.
Finally arriving at home, Rider had pulled Shirou away for a quick moment, as he directed his new guest Gray to the living room, as she asked Saber to stand outside as a lookout. Shirou had been directed by Rider to find Taiga passed out in one of the rooms. She was lazing around, subconsciously stretching her arm out, rubbing her stomach and all while drool continued to leave her goofy face. Unable to do nothing about what was in front of him, he turned away directing his gaze to Rider.
“If you could think of a better way to handle her in this situation, be my guest.”
Begrudgingly agreeing with her, Shirou called the Fujimura family who apparently had just sent someone to make sure they were okay.
Confirming to the worried Raiga that they were both okay and that Taiga knew nothing of what happened. He gave the excuse that she had eaten too much, fallen into a food coma, and was now in a deep sleep with the help of some alcohol on top of that.
It wasn’t the most graceful lie, and he did feel guilty for putting that on Taiga’s name, but considering what he had to deal with today, it was the best he could manage. The fact that Raiga laughed and found it completely believable that his granddaughter had slept through the chaos, only made him rub his temples knowing that she may very well have done it for real.
Almost immediately later a group of men arrived at the front door, where he was already holding the unconscious Taiga for pick up.
“Sure you don’t want to come over to the main Fujimura house, the boss thinks you’ll be safer there.”
Shirou shook his head. “I’m sure. We're close enough to the Fujimura Estate for that, and I’ve got other stuff I need to do. I’ll call every once in a while to confirm I’m safe, and if I ever do feel I need to go there I’ll be there in a jiffy.
After a strong shake of hands, the Fujimura’s left, and Shirou at last let out a sigh of relief. Smacking his face he prepared to face the new issue in the living room. He had guests to speak with, and a lot of questions to ask.
But before that, he went to the kitchen, trying to calm the restless tide of thoughts running through his head.
"Want something to drink?" he called out, his voice reaching the duo sitting quietly in the living room. “We've got some juices, tea and even coffee.”
"If it's not a bother then I’ll have some water." Gray answered politely.
“Coffee for me please.” Rider asked as business-like as possible, having grown fond of it.
He gave a nod and returned moments later with the beverages of a glass of water, coffee, and some tea for himself. Then he went back to the kitchen and began preparing something simple.
The soft sound of ingredients sizzling on a hot pan filled the air, along with a fragrant aroma that slowly spread through the house — helping him momentarily forget what just occurred.
"You don’t have to make anything for me, Shirou." Seeing what he was doing, Gray tried to decline his gesture only to have him shake his head.
"No, I insist…especially after what happened with you helping me and Rider it’s the least I can do as thank you. Besides, it’s the first time you’ve been to my place, and what kind of host would I be if I didn’t cook something? It kinda also helps with my nerves right now considering what happened. " He said while giving the pan a quick turn and glanced over his shoulder.
"You’re not allergic to mushrooms, are you?"
"... No."
The awkward silence returned, stretching thin between them. Rider, not known for being talkative, sat comfortably in the quiet, seemingly unbothered. Gray kept her gaze fixed on the table, her fingers loosely interlaced in her lap.
Outside, the sun had already risen fully, casting morning light into the room. The sound of birds echoed faintly from the trees beyond the window, accompanied by the sound of many cars passing by on the road.
Still they were far enough from the leftover fiasco to not be completely drowned out by sirens.
He let out a slow breath given that yesterday had felt like the longest day of his life. So much had happened in so little time that his thoughts hadn’t yet caught up with the reality of it all.
"Here," he said, returning with a tray. "I didn’t have much stocked up, so I couldn’t go overboard. Still, here’s some grilled salmon, miso soup, tamagoyaki, steamed rice, pickled vegetables, and some natto if you're feeling adventurous. I don't know if you've tried it since coming to Japan, but the taste grows on you."
Gray just stared at the large spread in front of her, there being enough dishes to feel a group of ten easily. "This is… a bit much, isn’t it? How did you even make this much in such little time?"
Puffing his chest with pride, the redhead answered, "I used four pans at once for the eggs, reheated some of the leftover miso soup from last night and having a rice cooker helps." Shirou said as he set everything down one by one. "Don't worry about it being too much, Rider can eat quite a lot when she likes something. There was this one time she got so frustrated with not knowing how to use chopsticks to eat grilled fish that she just secretly ate the entire thing by hand when she thought I wasn’t watc—oomph!"
Before he could finish, the purple haired Servant reached over and stuffed a piece of tamagoyaki into his mouth.
"You talk too much, Shirou," she said flatly.
He grinned while chewing. Teasing her from time to time was its own kind of satisfaction, especially since he was usually the one on the receiving end. In a way, it felt like playful revenge. Then his gaze drifted toward Gray, who was hesitating slightly. He tilted his head.
"Do you… also not know how to use chopsticks? I’ve got forks, if you want one."
She accepted the fork with a small nod, not a hint of embarrassment on her face.
"You’re not going to call Saber inside?" he asked quietly. "I do feel a bit bad having all of us eating in here while she’s standing outside."
"..."
A still, silent atmosphere settled over the room for several seconds as the girl fell quiet, leaving Shirou puzzled. He tilted his head slightly, sensing something off in her sudden change.
"Is there something going on between you two?"
Gray hesitated, her mouth parting as if to speak, only to close again. The silence stretched a bit longer before she let out a deep sigh. "It's n-nothing like that. I just didn't expect you to want a Se-Servant to eat with you. They don’t really need sustenance like we do."
Though that was her answer, the way she stumbled through the words, avoiding his eyes, suggested there was more beneath the surface. Still, he didn’t press her on it.
"Well, they’re still people. Heroic Spirits or not, they can eat, taste, and enjoy food just like anyone else. Besides, I’d rather not eat alone. I wouldn’t feel comfortable if someone were just sitting there doing nothing. And honestly, it feels nice to cook for more people."
Gray listened, several emotions crossing her eyes before she ended nodding. "I suppose you’re right. You… You can come in, Saber."
"Yes."
The door slid open, and in stepped the one who shared Gray’s face, wrapped fully in a cloak that concealed her form. Rather than sitting beside Gray, she paused, then deliberately left a bit of distance between them, glancing toward the girl with a look of quiet hesitation.
"It’s fine," Gray said gently. "This is Shirou’s house. You can sit here if you want to."
The other blonde nodded slightly. The awkwardness was palpable, enough that even someone blind to social cues could have noticed it. Saber sat down neatly on her knees beside the table, maintaining a formal posture. She looked down at the spread of food for a brief moment before turning her gaze to Shirou.
He offered her a smile, then stood from his seat and walked over to the fridge. He returned with two jugs, one in each hand.
"Which would you prefer, water or mango juice? I made the juice yesterday with freshly blended mangoes. They ripened just in time this season. It turned out really nice."
"Ah, then I shall give it a try. Thank you."
The girl’s reply came stiffly, as though unsure of how to react, and she gave a quick nod of appreciation. He poured the juice and placed a glass before her. Saber picked it up with both hands, still covered in armor, and took a cautious sip. Her eyes widened slightly. Even with the cloak hiding her features, he could tell she was enjoying it. He had grown used to reading people, though Rider remained an exception most of the time.
"Try this as well, both of you. I’m sure you’ll like it."
He pushed the plate of eggs forward, setting it between the two women. Once again, they hesitated and looked at one another. His curiosity flared even more strongly at the silent exchange, but he held his tongue, deciding not to pry just yet.
Gray and Saber each picked up a piece and brought it to their mouths. Shirou watched as Gray’s face lit up, her eyes widening with surprise at the taste. Saber’s reaction mirrored hers, though hers was more composed. She didn’t linger to savor it, however — instead, she quickly reached for another, then another. She chewed each one with the same quiet astonishment, swallowed, and reached for a third, then a fourth, then a fifth.
As for the sixth, she reached out once more only to pause when her fork brushed an empty plate.
"Ah."
Disappointment written all over her face, he immediately recognized. Heck even Gray after finishing her first bite looked hungry for more.
He was glad to see the woman enjoying his food this much. Once again affirming his belief that Servant or not, these people were still alive and eating was something they enjoyed just like anyone else would.
A soft chuckle escaped Shirou’s lips as he stepped forward, already prepared. He placed a second, fuller plate in front of them. Now that the atmosphere felt more relaxed for both the girls and himself, Shirou continued to look back and forth between Gray and Saber. ‘They look exactly the same, Gray's hair… Now that I look closely, she still has some of her old colours but most of it has turned blonde…. If I’m not mistaken even her vibe is different from before..’
Aside from that, the fact Gray had summoned a Saber Servant also surprised him for he had not expected she would end up becoming a Master. The number of people he knew who ended up becoming Masters were growing and he was not sure how to feel about that.
“Before we discuss what happened back there… I think it's best to discuss the elephant in the room.” Gray mentioned after finishing her meal, her eyes meeting his. “You're curious about my face and hers… aren't you?”
There was no point denying that, so he nodded.
Saber on the other hand looked at Gray with surprise, “Master, are you sure about this? Even if we helped him, he is still another Master who coul—”
“I know what I'm doing. It's not that big of a secret anyway, it won't change the outcome I am facing given how bad it already is.” She cut her off with a heavy tone, Saber said nothing after that while Shirou waited patiently for her to continue.
Even Rider has been curious and listened carefully.
So, Gray first proceeded to ask him a question.
“I’m... becoming my Servant.”
-------
AN: Small clarification. The missile part and the person who launched them is not an OC but actually a canon character that exists in the fate stay night universe and was 'sorta' almost involved in the HGW. If you're familiar with other fate works then you might have already figured out who it is.
2025-07-15 01:55:37 +0000 UTC
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2025-07-09 07:14:26 +0000 UTC
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Chapter ended up being longer than usual, got too into writing a certain scene and dialogues.
Next update is either Hound or Steel Eyed Faker. Depending on which I finish first.
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-Magnolia outskirts-
(A few minutes later)
“Oh boy… so let me get this straight,” the newly met man began, raising a brow in disbelief while massaging his temples. “You were on a triple… quadruple or whatever date this morning — not just with this gorgeous woman over here, but with other members of Fairy Tail. Then some random idiot calling himself Polished Rose? Musty Robe? Ah who cares, well, he showed up and attacked you out of nowhere, then you got teleported into that floating behemoth of an airship, where you met the master of the Grimoire Heart. A nasty piece of work, who apparently wanted you to inherit his legacy.”
“No, that was later. He wanted to use my Ki somehow to find the source of all magic.” Broly corrected the man who nodded.
“Then, a giant battle broke out, and you ended up killing him. Did I miss anything?”
“Well,” Broly hummed, his tone calm but unsure, “I still don’t know what he really wanted, and why he wanted it in the first place. He kept rambling about the Two magic—”
“One Magic.”
“Right, that, and he believed my powers were the key. I told him it was just life energy that could be found within everyone, rather than it being unique to me alone, but that didn’t seem to change his mind. Then he went and started attacking the city. But yes, that’s more or less what happened.”
The stranger nodded sagely, absorbing each word with thoughtful patience. Then, without a word, he stood and stepped closer, eyeing Broly from head to toe before resting a heavily scarred hand firmly on his shoulder.
“How the hell did you go on a date with multiple women and not end up dead!?” he exclaimed, eyes wide with a mix of envy and astonishment. “I tried doing that once with just two, and they slapped me so hard that I looked like a chipmunk that overstuffed it’s cheeks! But you? You didn’t just score mages from my guild — you even bagged a celestial spirit?!”
He jabbed a finger behind Broly, where Aquarius had all but wrapped herself on him. Her entire form draped languidly over his back, her chest pressed comfortably against him as if he were a bed of warm stone. Her arms wrapped loosely around his neck, her fishy tail coiled around his legs in a lazy spiral, occasionally twitching. Her face rested peacefully against his shoulder, her breathing slow and even, clearly having drifted into a light nap. It was oddly charming, seeing her so relaxed—her delicate features softened in sleep.
To Broly, she looked so much like Lucy whenever the blonde slept in that moment that the temptation to poke her cheek crept up on him, though he resisted.
“Also, the date part,” Broly echoed, genuinely confused by the man’s outburst. “We were just eating together, talking, and having fun. I was also showing a… friend of mine around town, she tried to kill me just for telling her to go outside for a bit.”
“Hmph,” Aquarius scoffed, listening to the conversation. “She'll have to deal with me first.”
The Saiyan wanted to shake his head, even though he knew Aquarius was quite capable as a Celestial Spirit… but compared to Irene? He doubted the latter needed to even transform in order to beat the other party. So best to keep them away from one another.
“That’s exactly what a date is, you beautiful, absurdly lucky, completely envy-inducing man!” the stranger roared, throwing his hands into the air. “Do you even realise how ridiculous this achievement is?”
Broly blinked. Was it really that extraordinary? He’d thought the most difficult part would be introducing Irene to her sister, but to his surprise, everyone else had been quite happy to join him for lunch. He couldn’t quite understand why this stranger was treating the whole thing like a divine miracle.
“Tell me your secret! I can seduce a single woman at a time or even do one-night stands but not with multiple at the same time!” the man begged, the dramatic flair fading into a genuine plea. He leaned in close, nearly nose to nose with Broly. “I swear on my ancestors I won’t keep it to myself! I definitely won’t use it irresponsibly! I absolutely will not try seducing a few beauties in the next town over for a fun little—ouch!”
His confession was cut short as Aquarius’s tail lashed out without warning, cracking him across the face and launching him several metres back with a yelp. Crashing by the side of a mountain and several boulders crashing onto his body.
“Don’t try to corrupt my boyfriend, you old man,” Aquarius snapped, her previous gentle tone vanishing beneath a sharp, annoyed edge. “Broly doesn’t need to know useless things like that. He’s a simple man, and if he says it was just a get-together, then it was just a get-together! Say otherwise, and I'll drown you until you are waterlogged!
Her narrowed eyes slid toward Lucy, who wisely chose silence over further comment.
“Oh, beautiful, I meant no harm,” the stranger replied, raising his hands innocently. Then, just by massaging his chin, he noticed that he had not even been scratched by that attack, which Broly had not missed, especially the strange way those boulders had broken. “But tell me... is a relationship between your kind and humans even allowed by your rules?”
Though he tried to mask it, there was a flicker of genuine worry in his voice, poorly hidden beneath his half-curious tone. Aquarius, however, dismissed the question with another scoff and an exaggerated shrug.
“If there’s a rule like that, then I’ll be waiting for the Spirit King to show up and punish me. But since I'm still here, then there is obviously nothing of that sort… yet.” That was all she said, and it left the man momentarily stunned, sitting back on his cushion in quiet disbelief.
“Haha... you’re really serious, huh? Well, I guess I can’t say anything to that if nothing happened yet.”
A short silence settled over them after that, broken only when Broly suddenly recalled something important. His gaze returned to the stranger who had shown up just after the fight.
“By the way, who are you?”
“You’re only asking that now?!” Lucy blurted out behind him, unable to restrain herself any longer. She’d held that same question for a while now and had even begun to assume the two already knew each other somehow, given how easily and casually they spoke.
It turned out they hadn’t even exchanged names.
“Ah right, where are my manners?” the man chuckled. “I’m Gildarts Clive. Nice to meet you, newcomer!”
As he pulled down his hood, a rugged face came into view: reddish-brown hair tousled by wind, a rough beard framing a weathered jawline, and sharp brown eyes set into a face that carried both exhaustion and strength. His entire presence gave off the air of someone who had walked through storms… battered.
For a brief moment, Lucy’s brow furrowed in thought. Something about him seemed familiar, though she couldn’t quite place it—until recognition struck.
“Wait... Gildarts? The Gildarts?! The one who went on a Century Quest? The strongest mage in Fairy Tail?!”
The flood of questions burst from her in a single breath, her wide-eyed disbelief drawing a hearty laugh from Loke and a pleased chuckle from Gildarts himself. Broly, meanwhile, observed with quiet interest that both Erza and Makarov had mentioned the name before. Now that he was meeting the man in person, his curiosity only deepened.
“Haha! The one and only,” Gildarts said with a grin. “Nice to know folks still talk about me around here. I was worried I might get forgotten given how long it has been since I came back.”
“What do you mean ‘still talk about you’? You’re one of the strongest mages in the guild! Now that you’re here, no dark guild’s going to try anything crazy again!”
“Debatable,” Loke muttered, his voice uncertain. “Those idiots will attack even the Magic Council if ordered. Crazy bunch.”
Broly gave a small nod. He agreed. Strength didn’t always deter madness. There would always be those reckless or desperate enough to throw themselves at a force far beyond their understanding. He knew that better than most, greed, rage, and blind ambition often overpowered even the clearest logic.
“Wait... then why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Lucy turned to Loke, her voice holding a hint of curiosity. “You’ve been quiet about Gildarts ever since we got here.”
“Oh…, I was just thinking about something else. Got distracted,” he replied simply, his tone evasive, clearly avoiding elaboration.
“It’s all right now,” Gildarts said, rising to his feet and stretching slightly. “Now that I’m here, I’ll clean up whatever dark mage scraps are still lingering in town. But don’t underestimate Fairy Tail, young lady. Even without me, I’m sure they’d be just fine. And this new guy over here? He’s something else. I felt those tremors from miles away. For a second, I thought a dragon had dropped in for a visit! Hahahaha!”
He laughed again, then turned to Broly with a grin.
“All right, what was your name again?”
"I never told you my name." He replied dryly.
"Come on, man, that's just a way of speaking. You're not supposed to make things awkward."
"Broly."
"Broly! Nice to meet you too! I know we’ll be good friends, given we clearly share the same interest. I don’t see why we shouldn’t head back — when we return to the guild, I’ll buy you a drink, and you can share a few pointers on how you managed to bag such an amazing Celestial Spirit as your girlfriend!"
He seemed oddly excited to have that conversation, his grin wide and unashamed. The celestial spirit in question, Aquarius, did not seem bothered in the slightest. There was no flicker of offense on her face, only a raised brow and a flick of her tail. Lucy, however, groaned in disbelief. The image she held of Fairy Tail’s strongest mage began to tarnish before her eyes, like a painting exposed to rain.
Broly, meanwhile, regarded the man with quiet curiosity. There was something familiar in the way he carried himself, almost like Natsu, though with a slightly more measured way of speaking. What stood out more was the power radiating from him… subtle, but vast. It felt stronger than anyone else in the guild, stronger even than the master. Yet at the same time, there was something off.
His Ki flickered. One moment it flared like a blazing fire, the next it dimmed to the fragile glow of a candle. Broly had sensed this kind of fluctuation before, but only in individuals recovering from near-fatal injuries. From the outside, though, the man looked mostly well. There were bandages, with a slight stench of iron and herbs he knew possessed some healing traits.
The man wasn't limping or moving in a way that suggested anything was too bad.
‘Strange. He’s most likely faking it. Gildarts should be in a lot of pain right now,’ Broly thought, narrowing his gaze.
Still, even weakened, the newly arrived mage felt like someone no one else in the guild, neither Erza, nor Natsu, nor any other, could stand against. Perhaps even the master… Unfortunately, he never saw that old man's magic in battle in order to make an accurate judgement.
Looking at him stirred a memory. He recalled a conversation he’d had with Makarov not too long ago, when the latter mentioned the name Gildarts. If there was anyone who could match him blow for blow, he had said, it was this man. Back then, Broly had looked forward to the idea. The thought of facing someone he didn’t have to restrain himself against had stirred real excitement.
That excitement had now dulled.
Back then, Irene hadn’t been around either. But now she was, and Broly could tell — he knew firsthand — that she was stronger than the man in front of him. Her Ki signature alone proved it. The sheer pressure she released from her magic could suffocate others if she ever let it loose. After all, that woman showed herself to be a dragon in human form.
‘But then again,’ Broly reasoned, ‘magic here works differently to Ki. Someone could possess a form of magic that’s far more destructive, even with a weaker Ki signature.’ He was starting to adapt to the rules of this world, understanding not to judge by one thing alone.
"Given we’re basically in the middle of a war, so to say, I doubt they’ll shift the city just because I showed up." Gildarts commented absentmindedly.
"Shifted the city?" Lucy and Broly repeated the words in unison, both blinking in confusion.
Loke, who had been listening quietly until now, decided to pipe in.
"It’s a safety measure Magnolia adopts whenever Gildarts returns from a mission. Because of how destructive and uncontrollable his magic tends to be, and the level of devastation it leaves behind, there’s a system in place. The entire landscape of Magnolia, the buildings and terrain, shifts. Everything moves to create a path that leads straight to Fairy Tail, with nothing standing in his way. The idea came after he accidentally destroyed an entire neighborhood once. All because he tripped while on a walk."
"Who the hell destroys an entire neighbourhood just by tripping!?" Lucy exclaimed, utterly disbelieving. She struggled to make sense of what she had just heard. Broly might wield immense power, but even he had never done anything remotely like that.
The middle aged man rubbed his nose awkwardly. "That’s just embarrassing! It only happened because I was young and didn’t have much control over my magic back then. It was just once!"
"It happened several times," Loke interjected flatly. "He was just so black-out drunk every time, that he forgot that he did it. That's why Master Makarov almost limits the amount of beer he has in the city."
"..."
The girl now began to genuinely wonder if there was a single person in the guild who could be called normal. Was every powerful mage cursed with some kind of odd personality quirk? The thought made her uneasy. If that was the cost of becoming S-Class, what kind of person would she end up becoming?
"It’s understandable," Broly said.
"Don’t try to empathise with him, Broly!" She snapped. "You might pick up his bad habits and start doing the same!"
"I mean, that’s why I lived inside a mountain far away from civilization, you know? To avoid hurting people. And breaking things," Broly replied.
It became hard to say anything to that, even though she wanted to point out that his circumstances were hardly comparable. Still, she held her tongue. She was too tired to argue and far too bitter about the fact that her own celestial spirit and her partner were getting along a little too well for her liking — kissing in front of everyone had been the final straw.
"Whoa... that’s a large pile of bodies," Loke muttered as they arrived at the edge of Magnolia. Before them was a stack of unconscious mages, strewn in disarray near the entrance. The sounds of fighting could still be heard from within the city, though they had lessened considerably compared to earlier.
"Wait... is that—?"
Several mages turned their heads, and gasps spread among them as they recognised Gildarts. Among the crowd were remnants of the Grimoire Heart guild, dark mages still resisting but clearly losing ground. The moment they saw who had arrived, whatever hope they had for victory crumbled like dust.
“G-Gildarts Clive!”
"Shit! When did he come back? Wasn’t he supposed to be on a Century Quest? No wonder we saw that explosion in the distance. It must have been him who fought Master Hades!"
"Wait, if he’s here, does that mean Master Hades is defeated?"
"Mistress Meredith, Mistress Ultear, and all the higher-ups have vanished too... That must be it!"
"Hey guys, uh… I didn’t do that. Just got here not that long ago." Gildarts tried to protest, holding up his hands in defence. But his voice was completely drowned out by the panicking cries of the dark mages.
"Damn it! We’ve been abandoned! Retreat!"
"Seriously, I just got here. It’s the guy behind me who did it!" He added, half-heartedly, glancing over his shoulder.
"Retreat! Forget about attacking Fairy Tail, Gildarts is here!"
"I really am not the one behind this—"
"How do we escape? We’re surrounded!"
"You lot are seriously starting to piss me off," muttered the man as the vein in his temple twitched. “You're not going to help me out here?”
All he got was a shrug from the alien, “Doesn't matter to me what they think.”
While he continued to be uninterested, the other mages started to become more restless. "We just storm him! He can’t possibly take all of us down at once! Some of us will have to be sacrificed so the rest can survive!"
They all shouted at once, abandoning whoever they’d been fighting earlier. In unison, the remaining dark mages rushed toward the entrance where Broly, Lucy, Loke, Aquarius, and Gildarts stood. Their hands rose, each glowing with a different kind of magic, spells already primed to fire.
Broly stepped forward, planting himself in front of Lucy. His hands began to glow, a faint sheen of ki radiating from his fingertips. But before he could act, Gildarts raised a hand to stop him.
"Please. Allow me," he said calmly. "It’s kind of my fault in the first place, so I’ll take responsibility."
As soon as he said that, Loke panicked. His eyes widened, and he hastily shook his head.
"Wait! No, don’t let him—"
Unfortunately, it was already too late. The brown-haired man had already raised his hand, an erratic grin tugging at his lips, barely able to contain the thrill running through him.
"Mizuwari!"
His fist slammed into the ground.
Immediately, Broly felt it — an immense surge of energy rushing through the earth itself. Unlike any magic he had encountered so far, it pulsed violently beneath his feet. The ground trembled, a quake erupting outward as the terrain shattered into countless cubic shapes chunks, each one the size of a boulder or smaller, exploding upward in a chaotic cascade.
The mages caught within the blast radius screamed in panic. Some tried to escape, but the spell’s effect was too swift. The following explosion engulfed them, the shockwave hurling debris through the air like shrapnel. A deafening boom tore through Magnolia, echoing for miles. The impact was devastating — dozens of houses reduced to dust in seconds, as if a storm had swept them off the map.
"Woah..." Lucy muttered beside him.
Broly had to agree. It was a sight to behold. This was the first time he had seen someone deal more damage with a single strike than even Natsu. And what startled him most was how effortless it looked.
"Damn it!"
Loke dropped to his knees, sighing in exasperation.
"That’s why we have the system in place. He causes too much damage every time he uses that magic, and then the master nearly has a heart attack when he sees the bill he has to pay afterward."
"Hahahaha!"
The man responsible bellowed with laughter, showing neither regret nor embarrassment. To Broly’s surprise, he looked rather pleased with himself, as though the destruction was a badge of honour.
"This is what happens to anyone who attacks Fairy Tail! Don’t underestimate my guild! We’re number one for a reason!"
"Pft, it’s okay I guess." Aquarius crossed her arms and glanced sideways. "Most of those buildings were already water-damaged from my earlier attack."
"You didn’t have to go that far, you know," the Saiyan commented, recalling their entrance earlier. Lucy had been drenched from head to toe.
"Oh, don’t act innocent. She deserved it for keeping me away longer than what was agreed upon. And why didn’t you tell her to summon me? Didn’t you miss me?" she asked, her tone taking on an oddly playful sweetness.
While he tried to find a proper answer to that, Lucy had other worries. "What about the other members? I don’t think Ultear came alone. Surely they had others in the guild besides foot soldiers."
"Don’t bother, young lady," Gildarts replied, giving a casual wave of the hand. "People like that tend to be the clever sort, hopefully. They would’ve vanished the moment their master fell. They don’t wait around to join him in death."
Then his expression shifted, turning oddly awkward as his gaze landed on the black-haired Saiyan in front of him.
"I’ll say this now, but if you want, we can keep what happened at the end of the battle a secret."
"You’d lie for me?"
Broly understood exactly what he meant. He knew the rules. Killing someone, even in battle, wasn’t something Fairy Tail took lightly. He remembered clearly the conversation he’d had with the master not long ago.
"It's not exactly lying, Makarov is not that dumb but there is no need to give the full details the moment you meet him. Best to do it when we're alone and away from others. It’s clear there’s more going on than I’m aware of. You didn’t strike me as someone who would end a life without reason. So I take it you were forced to do so."
"I tried..."
"Then that’s all that matters. We can talk about the rest later. For now, let’s just go home.”
…
As the last dark mage left the town, this marked a clear victory for the guild who wasted no time cheering out loud.
"Alright, you brats, it seems like our unexpected guest got too scared and turned tail!"
Minutes later, after making sure every dark guild mage had either retreated or been properly arrested by the Rune Knights, all the guild members had gathered inside Fairy Tail, every single one of them carrying a jovial expression across their faces.
"So, this marks our victory against Grimoire Heart!"
"Yeah! That’s what they get for attacking us out of the blue in our town!"
"They really thought they could beat us on our home ground? What absolute idiots!"
"They were also incredibly unlucky, attacking us around the same time Gildarts came back? Hahaha! If it wasn’t for the state of the city right now, I would’ve counted myself extremely lucky today and headed out to gamble!"
Safe to say, everyone was in a good mood. For every dark mage they had taken down, their morale had risen higher, and the energy within the guild grew louder with each passing minute. Unfortunately, Makarov did not share that opinion. He drew in a long breath before shouting at the top of his lungs.
"Shut the hell up, all of you brats! You think this is the time to be celebrating?!"
His sudden outburst immediately cut through the celebration, and the once noisy hall fell into confused silence. All eyes turned toward him in puzzlement, trying to figure out what they had missed. Seeing their blank stares, the old man’s brow twitched as he stomped toward the open window and jabbed a finger outside.
"A huge chunk of Magnolia has turned into dust! Who do you think is going to pay for all of this!?"
He shouted, tears of blood practically streaming down his face, already imagining the guild's savings coffers emptying out into nothing, filled with dust and cobwebs from how quickly money tended to vanish around here.
"Seriously, couldn’t all of you just hold back a bit and not be as crazy!?"
"Why are you blaming us? We played our parts, didn’t we? This was mostly Lucy’s Celestial Spirit and Gildarts’ faults!"
Ignoring the old man’s breakdown, the others started cheering again, music returning as the party resumed. Seeing their excited faces, Makarov could only sigh in surrender. He walked over to sit down beside Broly and Gildarts, the two men already locked in conversation.
The latter was asking Broly several questions, though most of them left the black-haired youth visibly confused, since many revolved around women — something he did not feel equipped to answer.
"Hah, what a mess. Sorry you had to walk into this, Gildarts. I never would’ve imagined that a prominent dark guild like Grimoire Heart would just attack us like this out of nowhere."
"Don’t worry, old man. The enemy no longer exists. And its master, well..."
"Loke already told me who it was," Makarov interrupted, his voice quieter, his shoulders more hunched than before. There was less energy in his tone now, weariness weighing down each word.
"Master Precht... I still cannot imagine what could have led him down such a path. He was a respected member of Fairy Tail. A former master. He taught me so much — magic, general knowledge, history. Things I still carry with me to this day."
"People change. It’s an unfortunate reality, but sometimes good people can turn bad without even realising it, just by chasing their goals. I never met the old man, but I’ve heard your stories, and I can only imagine what must have pushed him to fall this far."
Makarov didn’t reply. He just sat in silence, looking toward the wall, saying nothing.
"Let’s just take a break. It’s been a long day. I’ll let the children celebrate and have their fun. The Magic Council will arrive any day now, they will never ignore such a commotion."
"Or they’ll hide in a corner like rats, especially after one of their former members ended up being a dark mage. I wouldn’t show my face to the world either if I were in their position, not for a good while." Gildarts added and took a long chug of his beer, the mug nearly empty as he set it down again. His somber expression slowly shifted into something more casual. "Speaking of which, I’ve been here for the last hour, but why has it not—"
"Gildarts, fight me!"
"Oh, there he is," Natsu's voice rang out from behind as the young Dragon Slayer came leaping in, fists ablaze, clearly aiming for a sneak attack. He didn’t make it far. Without even turning his head, Gildarts casually swatted him away with the back of his hand.
“Oof!"
Natsu's body shot upward and slammed into the ceiling, limbs twitching. From the corner, Macao winced, already bracing for another repair bill.
"Don't destroy more property, you idiots! I'm probably going to be in debt already from having to reconstruct half the city thanks to your last attack!"
"Hahaha! It's great to see you're still as energetic as ever, Natsu!" Gildarts roared, throwing his head back with a booming laugh.
All he received in response was a pained groan as the boy dropped from the ceiling and crashed onto the floor with a loud thud. Several onlookers winced at the sound, though none looked particularly surprised by it.
"Perhaps I went a bit too strong on him," Gildarts muttered.
"This isn't over! I'll beat you one day, just like how I'll one day beat Broly too!" Natsu declared, his voice muffled slightly by the floor. Happy sat perched on his head, munching on a fish without a care in the world.
Wendy walked over with a sigh and began treating his wounds, her expression caught somewhere between concern and exhaustion.
"Please don’t start fighting again, Natsu. I just healed you and I don’t have much energy left."
"Seems like not much has changed," Gildarts said, chuckling as he signaled for another beer. Mirajane appeared swiftly, placing the drink in front of him with her usual grace.
"And I see you’ve got yourself another beautiful bartender. I approve. She looks amazing," he added with a grin, nudging the master playfully. "No wonder you’re sitting here all day. You've got a nice view in front of you."
"That’s Mirajane," the master said.
"What?" Gildarts blinked, looking between Makarov and the white-haired mage. His expression shifted slowly, realization dawning only when Mirajane gave a patient nod.
"A bit hurtful that you forgot about me, Gildarts. I haven’t changed that much." Mirajane did not miss out on the opportunity to tease the other party a bit with a fake hurt face which worked wonders on the man in front of her.
"Holy hell. I’m getting old," he muttered, rubbing his head.
"Well, we all are. But I’m sure everyone here has a question they’ve been dying to ask you. How did your quest go?"
"That’s right. He went on a Century Quest!"
"Century Quest?" Broly repeated the term with a blank look, glancing at Lucy in hopes of some clarification.
"I told you about this before. I think even Cana explained it too," she said with a frown.
Again, Broly just stared at her. It was clear he’d already forgotten. Quests, in general, weren’t something he paid much attention to unless they involved Lucy directly.
"Fine, I’ll say it again. Basically, it’s a quest that’s so ridiculously difficult no one’s managed to complete it for over a century. That’s why they call it a Century Quest. Completing one is a massive achievement. Mages dream of doing it. The fame alone dwarfs anything else you’ve ever done, and the reward is even more insane."
That sounded interesting. Broly turned to look at her, noticing how bright and excited she appeared as she spoke.
"Do you want to complete one?" he asked.
"Are you crazy? I’d rather stick with the smaller stuff. Those things are easily life-threatening. And I know you’re powerful, Broly, but never take unnecessary risks with those." Then she released a sigh before adding more. “Besides, it's only for S-class mages. I still have a long way to go before reaching that point.”
Hearing the many voices whispering around them, Gildarts remained silent for several more minutes. He took a long swig from his mug and released a series of coughs. Showing some pain on his face while clutching his sides.
"Argh… shit. Hah… Unfortunately, I failed."
The entire guild fell into silence. Even Natsu stared at him in disbelief, struggling to accept the idea that someone like Gildarts could fail.
"You'll understand once you look at my body," the man said, turning around as he pulled back his cloak.
Gasps erupted throughout the room. Beneath the cloak, his body was a mess of wounds. Deep scars, burn marks, bruises, and lacerations covered nearly every inch of him. Some still looked fresh, red and angry against his skin. Most shocking of all was his right arm, which Broly had caught a glimpse of before. Now fully revealed, it was almost unrecognizable—riddled with long-healed injuries and charred skin.
The guild was dead quiet. The atmosphere had changed instantly, the exciting mood quickly dissipating.
"Yeah... pretty nasty, huh?"
"How did this happen to you?" Erza asked as she stepped forward, just as stunned as the rest.
"Oh, it's not as bad as it looks. Could've been worse. I wasn’t exactly a moment away from losing a limb, though I only managed to keep them by pure luck," Gildarts said with a strained chuckle. Then he shifted his gaze toward Natsu. "Hey, Natsu. You’re still looking for your father, right?"
That caught the boy's attention instantly, as well as several others in the room.
"You found Igneel?!" Natsu shouted, almost jumping to his feet, only for his excitement to plummet when Gildarts slowly shook his head.
"Nah. I don’t think that was Igneel, unfortunately. But I did find a dragon. Just... not the kind you’d be hoping for. That thing was no father figure. It was a monster. A sadistic one, at that. A black dragon, accented in purple, eyes like polished bone. And instead of breathing fire, it fired beams of pure magic."
His voice lowered, but every word landed with a grim tone many rarely ever heard from him.
"I can't imagine how something like that roamed the world this long without leveling half a continent. I’ve never encountered anything like it before. Nothing that strong."
The moment those words left his mouth, Erza’s, Lucy’s, Natsu’s, and several other members’ eyes turned slowly toward Broly.
He didn’t move.
Frozen in place, he stared ahead, the description getting his attention. Images flooded back—of a dragon just like the one Gildarts had seen. One that nearly tore everything from him in a moment of blind, furious rage.
But he said nothing. He kept still, his expression unreadable.
Gildarts noticed the shift in the room. He saw where their eyes had landed but chose to say nothing, instead returning his attention to his drink.
"At least you’re alive," Makarov said, his voice carrying through the silence. "The most important rule in Fairy Tail has never been to complete your quest at any cost. It’s to stay safe, and to come home alive."
"You should see Porlyusica. She’ll take one look at you and start scolding, but she’ll treat you better than anyone else could."
Several members immediately tried to lift Gildarts’ spirits, rallying around him, offering their usual warmth and celebration regardless of whether the quest had been a success.
Meanwhile, Broly sat quietly in his seat, a drink in hand, his mind far removed from the noise around him. Still lost in those old memories. Still staring at the dragon in his head.
.
.
.
(A few minutes later)
"Haah..."
While the house they had to be relocated to was a bit old, its traditional bath also came with something similar to a hot spring of sorts. Mostly, it is a spring nearby that brings water from a small channel into a large, dug-out hole. Heated by some magical devices Lucy brought to turn into a hot spring. While it still needed some work to make it comfortable and beautiful to see — for him it was already perfect.
Steam drifted through the air above a large hot spring nestled between thick rocks and overgrown greenery. Broly stepped into the pool, the water warming his skin almost instantly. He said nothing at first, letting his body and soul soak in the healing effects of the pond. A long breath escaped his mouth as he gradually sank in, his muscles unwinding as the water reached his neck. Only his head remained above the surface as his hair spread out gently over the water like drifting kelp.
"The black dragon, huh..." he murmured to himself.
After revealing the existence of the creature to the others, and accepting the failure of the quest, Gildarts had shared a few more details. From what had been said, he had managed to piece together when it might have happened.
"It was before we encountered it on Galuna Island... Did it fly over there after sensing me?"
He asked the question aloud, but no answer came. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it, and even less certain whether the creature had survived or not. His memories of the encounter were hazy at best. He could barely recall anything beyond the pained screeches and the violent surge of his own unleashed energy. If he followed the logic, it should have been dead along with the island, consumed by the force of his power. And yet, part of him couldn’t shake the discomfort, a nagging pull that refused to let him feel at ease. He wouldn’t rest, not fully, until he knew with absolute certainty whether that thing was dead or still out there.
"Someone's unusually quiet," came a melodious and gentle voice.
He turned his head to the side and found Aquarius. She had appeared without a ripple, now sitting calmly beside him in the water. She, too, seemed to be enjoying the hot spring’s warmth. This time, however, the bikini she usually wrapped around her chest was gone, and she made no effort to conceal herself. Her expression was serene but curious as she studied him.
"Are you thinking about that dragon?" she asked.
"I am," Broly replied.
"I thought you’d be more excited about meeting this Gildarts. Weren’t you always chasing someone strong enough to fight without needing to hold back? The human's in rough shape at the moment, but recovery shouldn’t be an issue. You saw what he did. No one causes that much destruction just by casually slamming their fist into the ground."
"I can tell he’s powerful," Broly said after a pause. "Even more so than the master from what I could tell."
"Then are you thinking about the dark mage master who died today?"
"...Yeah," Broly admitted, not even trying to pretend otherwise. "He was a former master, and someone Makarov clearly looked up to. I think to myself, if I had taken a different approach, if I had stepped in and stopped him before he did something so extreme, maybe I could have convinced him. Maybe he’d still be alive right now."
Aquarius rolled her eyes at that.
"You’re too kind for your own good sometimes. I didn’t see the battle, nor did I meet the man. If I had, I’d have drowned him myself for attacking. Someone willing to destroy an entire city just to push you toward his own twisted ideals? That’s not someone worth saving. That’s not a redeemable person. That’s a waste of time."
"You don’t know that," Broly said, his tone soft. "No one is inherently evil. There’s always a reason why people become what they are. There’s also a chance, no matter how small, that they can be brought back. I just wish I were better at things outside of fighting. In moments like that, I can’t communicate like Lucy, or Erza, or even Mirajane. I can get lost in the thrill of the fight. Even though I don’t like hurting people, I still find myself drawn to the excitement of fighting someone strong."
He stared into the water for a moment, his voice quiet.
"And even when I put all of this power to use... I still end up feeling helpless and powerless when it matters most."
"No one’s perfect. And no one should try to be perfect, either. That’s an impossible task you’re setting for yourself. You’ve got your flaws, just like everyone else. That’s what makes us all unique. That’s what makes you Broly."
She leaned her head gently against his shoulder. Her soft voice settled his thoughts more than he would have expected. It was in quiet moments like this that he appreciated her presence the most. He had told Lucy more than once that Aquarius had a gentler side, though the blonde had never seemed to believe him. She still feared the celestial spirit. But he had always known it wasn’t cruelty that made Aquarius harsh—it was care.
He remembered her mentioning once that she had a responsibility to make sure Lucy didn’t end up dead, something she had promised to her former key owner, Lucy's mother. A promise she was determined to uphold, no matter what.
"Speaking of which... who is this new friend you made?"
Suddenly, her voice shifted ever so slightly, her tone sharper as she turned toward him, eyes narrowed and watching with a certain pointed suspicion.
Though the Saiyan didn’t seem to react much at first, he continued smiling faintly, his thoughts briefly drifting to Irene.
"Her name is Irene. I think... No, I know she’s related to Erza somehow, but she won’t admit it. She’s a friend I made while I was locked up in a prison cell by the Magic Council. She can be a bit mean at times and says cruel things, but she hasn’t done anything bad yet. You should meet her someday. I think you two could get along quite well, but don’t try to fight her. She’s really powerful."
As soon as the words left his mouth, his eyes widened. A strong urge to slap his own face surged through him. He had completely forgotten his earlier decision to keep the two of them separate, these two, and to never let one know about the other. But with how relaxed he had grown in the moment, and his mind slightly fuzzy from the heat of the spring, that decision had slipped right past him. He’d told her anyway.
Well, it was too late now. There was no point in lying, and even if he tried, it wouldn’t matter. Aquarius had always told him he was a terrible liar.
"Just friends? This person isn’t trying to get closer? That can’t be. She’s definitely after you. That whore!"
"Why are you angry?" he asked, startled by her sudden tone. "She’s not the kind of person you think she is. I can vouch for her. And honestly, I don’t think she even likes me. She’s tried to kill me a couple of times, but I already showed her she’s not strong enough to pull it off."
"What!?" Aquarius shot back, her voice rising. "She’s not a whore—she’s a bitch!"
"Just promise me... if you meet her, you won’t fight. Please. For me."
He looked at her with a pleading expression, one that radiated nothing but sincerity. It hit her harder than she cared to admit. Her eyes twitched, her anger visibly deflating as her lips tightened and she quickly turned away. A blush began to bloom across her cheeks as frustration set in.
"Why the hell do you have a face like that with such an intimidating body? It’s hard to stay mad at you when you look at me like that, you idiot." she mumbled with a pout.
"I know. That’s why I’m using it. It’s very effective on you."
"At least try to lie to me."
"I don’t like lying. You know that."
The girl gave a long sigh. "Yes, I know. You’re not that kind of person." Her voice softened slightly. "You know what? It’s been a while since we had any time to ourselves, hasn’t it?"
She shifted closer. Her chest pressed lightly against his arm, and there was a certain warmth in her tone now… something laced with salacious intent. A soft flash of light surrounded her lower body, and in the space of a heartbeat, her mermaid-like tail began to shift and morph. Scales gave way to skin as two flawless, pale legs formed before his eyes. With nothing covering her below, there was no fabric left to hide anything intimate beneath the water’s surface.
As she moved under the water, he didn’t even realize what was happening until her face appeared right in front of his. She leaned in, her body practically pressed against his, the distance between them nearly gone.
"Why don’t we have some fun together... like old times?" she whispered. "You clearly need to clear your head, and I know just the way."
{Break}
-???-
Within a dimly lit chamber, several silhouettes sat motionless upon thrones carved from rough stone, each seat rising high and imposing like the figures who occupied them. The pale light of the moon filtered in through a narrow opening above, illuminating their forms in silvery streaks, though never bright enough to reveal their faces. They were humanoid in shape, but not entirely human. Horns curled from some skulls, others bore wings, talons, or serpentine tails. Each one carried distinct demonic traits, and though none spoke at first, their silent presence alone gave the room a stifling, oppressive weight.
Among them, one figure rose.
His footsteps echoed faintly against the stone floor as he walked to the center of the chamber, stepping directly beneath the shaft of moonlight. The light revealed the appearance of a young, handsome man, with long, dark hair styled in a ponytail that fell past his waist and a regal outfit.
The lack of any demonic traits compared to those around was not what made him stand out — but rather the thick, ancient-looking book clutched against his chest. It never left his person. None had ever seen him set it down, not even once. He held it close, as though it contained something more valuable than life itself. Perhaps, considering the secrets bound within it, that wasn’t far from the truth.
"I see everyone has gathered today," he began, his voice calm but carried throughout the room. "We’ve just received word that one of our allied guilds within the alliance has fallen. Grimoire Heart for those who forget."
"The fuck, again?" a voice snapped from the shadows. It sounded young, male, laced with a mix of snark and irritation. "That’s the problem with humans. They think they’re unstoppable just because they use some unique magic. But in the end, they all drop like flies. Wasn’t that the geezer who wouldn’t shut up about discovering the origin of all magic and reviving Lord Zeref?"
"That's him," the man with the book confirmed.
"That makes two guilds that have crumbled in a short span, Mard Geer." another voice spoke up, this one belonging to a woman. Her silhouette stood out clearly in the half-light, marked by a pair of large fluffy pointed ears almost resembling horns, clawed hands and demon-like feet with razor sharp claws giving her the appearance of a human-bird hybrid. "It can’t be the Magic Council. If they had the strength to do this, those two would’ve been dealt with long ago. Must’ve been another guild... Wait. Last I heard, they had formed an alliance like ours, hadn’t they?"
"Correct, Kyoka." the book-holder replied with a nod. "But that alliance dissolved almost as soon as it formed. They managed to take down the Oración Seis, yes, but not long after, one of their members turned rogue and decided to handle the enemy alone. What remains now is a name, nothing more."
"You can never trust a human," someone muttered with disdain.
"Now that the Balam Alliance can no longer stand with just the few of us," Mard Geer continued, eyes sweeping over the shadowy forms, "we should begin planning for what lies ahead. It’s only a matter of time before they turn their attention toward us."
“You want us to attack them?”
“No, not yet at least.” He shook his head. “Rather, it would be in our best interest to accelerate Face’s creation. The sooner it's done, the sooner we can bring our lord back and accomplish our mission. Aside from that, we also have a little bug that has been causing a bit of trouble for us lately.”
He looked at another person in the room, her face hidden within the darkness but even that was unable to hide her voluptuous figure and the curved horns on her head.
“He's being hunted down as we speak.” She mentioned with a soothing voice that seemed to carry an invisible force grasping at any listener's heart. “It's only a matter of time.”
“Well, for one who channels the power of stars, astronomical objects, and constellations — I expect nothing less.”
“We haven't discussed the possibility of us being targeted next. What do we do if someone comes after us?” Others were still curious about this fact, not particularly worried about losing in the least.
Mard Geer hummed, “Well, I doubt that will happen since they need to find us in the first place. But if that does happen… we can kill some of our boredom. Don't you agree, Kyoka?”
The woman smirked, a sadistic light flashing across her eyes.
“Mmm, yes~ I wouldn't mind some new toys.”
2025-07-04 19:40:21 +0000 UTC
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Beta read by FabledLife and Opal.
Next update is Broly which will be in a few minutes.
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-Midchilda-
If there was one thing Hayate wished could change in the Time Space Administrative Bureau, it would be meetings that ended up being meaninglessly stretched for several hours. A meeting that could have easily been an hour now went on for nearly five hours.
"The damage done upon the Saint's Cradle has rendered the ship practically inoperable, even with the bare minimum of hull repair," said one of the analysts with a low and formal tone.
"That’s putting it mildly," another added, stepping forward with a tablet in hand. "The hull and its entire frontal structure have been completely obliterated. While it’s true the engines remain untouched, the control room most likely no longer exists. There’s nothing left to pilot even if we could power it."
"So for now, it’s become a useless remnant of history?" someone else questioned from the shadows, leaning back with clear disappointment.
"I wouldn’t call it useless by any means," replied the analyst, shaking his head. "Despite the structural devastation, the Saint's Cradle retains a number of its original functions. According to our researchers, there's still an intact database onboard that holds several ancient Belkan records and information on several Lost Logias, many of which have been lost to time. That knowledge alone holds significant value."
"And what of the ship itself?" another voice asked.
"Well, from what we found out from these records and ours was that without someone of the same royal bloodline as the original ruler, it is impossible to reactivate the vessel. The activation protocol is tied to the lineage."
"So it’s only a matter of time before the Saint Church comes over and claims it?"
“Who knows, this decision solely lies with Knight Carim. We'll have to wait until she returns in a few days to be sure, but she is already aware of the findings and has been informed of this meeting.”
Within a dimly lit chamber, the walls lined with softly humming monitors, a half-circle of officials sat around a central table. The screens before them displayed a variety of angles of the ruined Saint's Cradle, some from overhead, others from drone surveillance. Footage rolled in real-time from hundreds of reconnaissance units, but as one drew too close, its feed abruptly cut to black. The silence that followed wasn’t surprise, but familiarity, as they had all seen these before.
Among those present was a heavyset man whose uniform sat tightly against his large belly. Hayate would have recognized him, of course, having decided to keep an eye on him for the following meeting. “There is also something else of concern," the man said.
"We have more important matters to attend to than this! While the condition of the Saint's Cradle is certainly unfortunate, all of this is because of a single party.” With both palms on the table, his voice continued to rise, "All of us are forgetting one last critical detail."
The screen above changed to a new feed. This one was similar to the other ones, but instead appeared to be footage taken from a high-altitude surveillance satellite. The image displayed the Saint's Cradle in its prime, intact, moments after its emergence from beneath the earth. The room fell into a hush. Eyes shifted from screen to screen, but all missed the sudden shift in expression from Hayate, who had remained notably silent until now.
"This is aerial footage taken moments before Fate Testarossa and Nanoha Takamichi arrived at said location. Pay close attention."
The image accelerated in speed. The ship hovered until a sudden eruption of brilliant energy tore through the hull. A beam of multicolored light lanced upward from within, twisting violently in shades that mirrored the rainbow. The energy spiraled outwards, crawling across the metal like living veins, until at last, it erupted with a thunderous boom, shearing the front section of the Saint's Cradle apart.
Murmurs rose around the table. Surprise, alarm, curiosity, and even fascination. Reactions varied, but one thing was certain: the blast had drawn the attention of even the most uninterested among them.
"We have confirmed through both our data and testimonies from the perpetrator himself and from the captured personnel that the origin of this surge was none other than Emiya Shirou." At once, Ragus slammed his fist down onto the table, the thud echoing through the chamber. “I warned you all about this boy we’ve taken in under the guise of protection! This is the work of a Lost Logia, one that was never registered, one he’s kept hidden from us this entire time!"
"How can you call it a Lost Logia when it isn’t one in the first place?" Hayate’s tired voice raised in defiance. Dark circles hung beneath her eyes, a visible mark of sleepless nights, now deeper than when the Riot Force 6 had last gathered in search of Shirou earlier. Despite her fatigue, she stood firm, hands resting at her sides.
"Like you yourself have said, he is not of this world. He comes from somewhere else entirely and possesses abilities and items that exist outside of our history, our records, and our systems. By what logic or law can we label them as Lost Logia? That designation implies they originated here, that they were once ours. But they never were. We are neither obligated nor authorized to demand that he surrender items that have no bearing on our own legacy, especially when he has caused no harm."
"No harm?" The voice came from across the room, and Ragus’s heavy form leaned forward on the table as his eyes narrowed. "Commander, are you even listening to yourself? That ship, the Saint’s Cradle, was a relic of our history. A piece of our culture, lost to time, yes, but meant to be reclaimed. And now, it lies broken, shattered by a force wielded by someone you say has done no harm. That relic, had it been properly restored and with a proper user, could have been a boon to us. A strategic asset! Instead, it was destroyed. By him."
There might have been a time when Hayate could have kept her composure. She was no stranger to harsh words or a clash of words. Normally, she would have kept her tone professional, her words measured. But days of sleeplessness, the pounding headache from raised voices, the constant weight of TSAB’s half-truths, and withheld intelligence — all of it began to boil over.
"What exactly is your problem with Shirou?" she snapped, her voice rising across the room in an unexpected outburst. Eyes turned toward her with immediate surprise. "I don’t care what secret agendas you’ve got going on behind my back, or if you still have doubts about me and my past! But this… this is going too far. You’re targeting someone who has done nothing but help us. Someone who was abducted right under our nose, despite it being our responsibility to ensure his safety! And had he not used whatever power that was, Emiya Shirou would have been lost, either dead or worse, turned into a puppet and used against us by Jail!"
Her hands trembled slightly as she leaned forward, eyes blazing.
"Then what? Would we be having this conversation while fighting off our own allies? Do you think we could have stopped him if he had turned against us? And another thing — why wasn’t I informed that some of you already knew the Saint’s Cradle’s location? Why did I have to hear about it from after-the-fact footage? If that information had been shared when it mattered, even the last look I—"
"Second Ground Commander Hayate."
The interruption came like a cold knife. A single, aged voice brought her to a halt. Her breath caught, the fury still brimming just beneath her skin, and she looked around to find all eyes watching her. The oldest among them, seated near the center, fixed her with a hard, disapproving gaze.
"Matters concerning the Saint’s Cradle were classified from the start. That information was not to be distributed freely, not even to those who are present here. There was no confirmed intelligence that suggested it was occupied by the likes of Jail or any other faction, let alone being a place where Emiya Shirou was kidnapped.”
"Then how the hell did someone like Jail know about the location of the Saint's Cradle to begin with?" she pressed, this time having regained some of her calmness. "They’ve obviously been occupying that thing for quite some time now. Long enough to manufacture all those drones."
She was clearly not going to back down so easily.
"This matter will be investigated," one of the officials replied, voice carefully measured. "It is clear there has been a leak of classified information among the higher-ups. However, Commander Regius Gais is also correct. We must now turn our attention to another pressing concern. The red-headed boy, Emiya Shirou, and his possession of those weapons. We have never encountered anything of their kind before. Their power and destructive capacity are not something we can afford to ignore any longer, as well. Not just for our safety but for his and those in Midchilda."
The speaker adjusted their glasses before continuing.
"When he first arrived on Midchilda, he carried no weapons. According to every record we have, his magic only allowed him to replicate items he had previously seen and reinforce them — such as arrows, bows, and even those twin swords. But now we have witnessed him wield a multitude of unfamiliar spells that contradicted his words. There was the flower-shaped force field during the auction, and now this. While we have taken on the responsibility of ensuring his safety and facilitating his eventual return, it is also imperative that he not withhold any critical information from us. I trust you understand the seriousness of this, Commander."
The woman narrowed her eyes, her voice turning cold. "So what exactly are you proposing? Are you going to interrogate him like a prisoner? Force the answers out of him?"
"No," the reply came with a note of finality. "We are entrusting this matter to you, given your close relationship. However, should you fail to accomplish the task, it will be reassigned to others."
From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Regius again. His face remained composed, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips told her everything she needed to know. He was more than eager to assume control of the situation.
Holding back the storm of thoughts and emotions building within her, she said nothing. The meeting shifted toward other topics concerning the Saint's Cradle, but she hardly listened. Several thoughts churned, tangled in silence, waiting for the minutes to pass and the meeting to end.
When it finally adjourned, Hayate stood from her seat and exited the building without a word, with hasty steps. She needed to leave before she said something she’d regret if they were to bring up the previous topic once again. Every step she took down the long corridor eased the tension in her muscles, and by the time she stepped out into the open air, a breath finally escaped her lips.
“What a mess…”
In the distance, the brunette spotted a familiar black car waiting for her. A flicker of relief crossed her face as she approached it, the door opened, and Fate stepped out, her usual calm smile greeting her. No words passed between them at first after that greeting. There was no need… the blonde could see it clearly.
"You look like a walking zombie, Hayate," Fate mentioned, something which earned a chuckle from her friend.
"Then I suppose I’ll just need to apply more makeup than usual."
"If you keep that up, we won’t have a leader left to guide us. Are you sure you want Nanoha or me to take over your job while you recover? Aside from training certain recruits, our schedule has been pretty empty lately."
Hayate shuddered, for the mere thought of that outcome sent an uncomfortable chill down her spine. As much as she cared for both of them, imagining either of those two sitting in her chair, trying to sort out paperwork and operations… where the likelihood of them just ignoring most of it and letting it pile up for her later was a nightmare waiting to happen. Lately, both had become a little too distracted — especially when Shirou was around — and she'd already started noticing delays in their duties. If things continued like that, their entire force would collapse under a mountain of unfinished forms.
Part of her was jealous of their freedom, but also of how close they became to one another in the blink of an eye. Reminding her of her own past history with them before all of this.
"It’s not fair how you two get to just enjoy yourselves."
"Then take a vacation."
"Not a bad idea," Hayate muttered. "But with the way things are now, that would just give Regius more excuses to question my leadership. Worst case scenario, you’ll be taking orders from him next."
Fate didn’t laugh this time, nor did she argue.
This time, it was her turn to pull an ugly face at the mere thought. "I wish you good health and hope you can continue being our leader forever, Hayate. I'll happily give you free massages both in "
"All right, all right, cut that out," Hayate muttered, rolling her eyes. "Speaking of which, where’s Nanoha, anyway?"
Her friend smiled, "The answer should be pretty obvious by now."
"With Shirou."
At this point, she should have started to expect it from the beginning. While not overly attached to him, it was starting to head that path in her opinion. Having known the person for years, even she could see the obvious signs.
"Yep. She went along with him to meet someone. I don’t know all the details, but ever since he came back, she’s practically been glued to his side. You won't believe this if I tell you, but I'm pretty sure she's now genuinely considering sleeping at his place from now on. Before it was a joke, but now…"
Hayate gave her a look that hovered somewhere between amusement and exasperation. "She’s not even trying to be subtle anymore, is she?"
"To be fair, she was never very subtle to begin with, and lying is not something she's good at — whether it be with others or herself. I don’t even think the girl realizes her own feelings. And Shirou… well, I’m not sure if he even feels anything back. Still too early to tell."
Hayate hummed in agreement before her gut feeling felt that there was more to this matter than what she was being told. Proceeding to stare at Fate from the corner of her eyes, she asked, "Then what about you?"
The moment the words left Hayate’s mouth, Fate cast her a puzzled glance before turning back toward the car and climbing in. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."
Of course, she would not get a clear answer so easily. This made her roll her eyes.
"Sure you don’t. Come on, let’s head back. I’m in dire need of more coffee."
"Nope. What you need is rest. We're heading to his apartment instead.” That caught her by surprise, “Something Subaru-chan came up with to celebrate the occasion. Apparently, Shirou seems to be a bit distracted lately, even Nanoha wasn't able to get a clear answer from him, but something is clearly bothering him. So, Subaru and Teana organized a small celebration to lift his spirit, so to speak."
Hayate hesitated, part of her wanting to try out his cooking again, remembering the taste of that one bento Nanoha had brought back, where a single bite of which had been enough to leave her craving more. She’d heard plenty about Shirou’s cooking, and by now, she was curious enough to want a full serving.
But given this occasion was meant for him to relax, she doubted she'd get that chance, which made her a bit disappointed.
"Fine, but stop by my place first, I think I have something to bring as a gift for this occasion.”
{Break}
(Around the same time)
The jail system within Midchilda was, to Shirou’s eye, oddly reminiscent of the Clock Tower’s own way of detaining prisoners. The holding cells differed depending on the danger level of the inmate, and in this case, the man they were visiting had been deemed not just dangerous, but lethal. The number of guards patrolling the sector, the layers of security, magical wards, emergency countermeasures — a bit too much if he had to be honest.
Especially when the prisoner in question gave himself up willingly, much to his dismay at first.
"What are you doing here?" came a voice from within the dimly lit cell.
Zest sat on the other side, his arms and legs bound in enchanted restraints, his movements reduced to the bare minimum. The translucent barrier shimmered faintly between them, giving the illusion of closeness while ensuring containment.
"That's a strange question to ask when you already know the answer," Shirou replied, stopping in front of the cell. "I came to visit you. And to find a way to get you released soon enough… this is not what I wanted."
"Don't bother." Zest’s voice was firm, his tone carrying a warning that made Shirou pause. There was no actual anger; his face remained the same as if he had long accepted the outcome. "When I agreed to return with you to Midchilda, I told you what the outcome would be, and so did your friends. I’ve accepted my fate, so you should too. My past crimes cannot be so easily ignored, not when there are several people who know of my past and some who hold personal grudges against me."
Shirou’s hands curled into fists at his sides.
"I didn’t go through all the trouble of bringing you back just so you could rot in a cell."
Zest shook his head, unflinching. "Be grateful they didn’t execute me on the spot for being one of Jail's subordinates. This is the best outcome you could have hoped for; they are not wrong to assume that I’m dangerous. I know that. They know that. Eventually, they’ll find a use for me or put me down permanently — it’s only a matter of time."
Shirou hated how easily the words came from his mouth as if he’d long rehearsed them. And maybe he had. He'd seen the same pattern at the Clock Tower — how easily people were tossed into boxes and written off as problems to be managed rather than understood. Yet even now, he couldn’t bring himself to agree. Not when someone had willingly taken a step back into the lion’s den just to protect the lives of others. Not when he still believed there had to be another way.
“You say that now, but I can guarantee you it won't come to that. You won't die.”
"You seem quite confident," Zest said dryly.
To that, the young man let out a small scoff, barely more than a breath through his nose.
You're quite a pessimistic person."
Zest narrowed his gaze slightly. "I won't lie, a small part of me wonders they didn’t throw you in here as well after destroying the Saint's Cradle. These people must have seen what you did out there, yet you're still walking around freely."
"Because I didn't do anything wrong, not everyone here is out to get me or with a hidden agenda like you are thinking. I told you, there are good people here who just want to help," Shirou replied with a shrug.
Zest offered no response, simply falling silent once again. Seconds and minutes ticked by in that same stillness, the sterile quiet of the facility wrapping around them like a suffocating sheet. Then, without turning his head, Zest asked again.
"Tell me... why are you really here in the first place?"
At that, the redhead sighed, glancing about the cell, his gaze brushing past the translucent wall before him, then returning to meet Zest's eyes. "Like I told you before, I intend to keep my promises. In any way, shape, or form."
“Don't try anything crazy like breaking the wall or messing with the system. If this prison gets destroyed, then you're inviting more trouble.” Zest mentioned, which made the boy look at him with disbelief.
“I feel like perhaps you have gotten the wrong impression of me… You make it sound like I'm some sort of crazy person going out of my way to destroy things for no reason.” This sensation of unfairness was further simplified when Zest gave him a look that basically screamed, ‘Are you not?’ so casually. Sure, he did go a bit strong with his escape from the spaceship, but that was necessary to survive.
He wouldn't just start randomly destroying things for no reason.
Regardless, he did not come here to argue that point and instead just tapped a few numbers on the console next to him before the wall vanished.
Zest’s eyes widened, blinking at the empty space where the wall had been. "What are you doing?" he asked.
But Shirou didn’t answer him. He merely turned toward the side corridor, his gaze calm and sure. A second figure stepped into view, and this time, Zest could not keep the surprise from his face.
"Lu… Lutecia?" he breathed.
Gone was the ragged hood that once concealed her expression. Her usual dark outfit that Zest had grown used to seeing her in was replaced with a clean, newer dress — one with white and blue frills, something she had picked out on her own with Shirou’s help. Though he wasn't much of an expert when it came to picking the right clothes for girls her age, he just trusted Subaru and Teana with the task, and they were more than happy to help.
More than that, gone was the hollow look she once carried, and gone was the lifeless haze that dulled every glance. Now, her eyes trembled, shimmering with emotion barely held at bay.
"Zest," she whispered, her voice cracking as it left her.
"I made her a promise," Shirou said gently. "Just like the one I made for you. That the two of you would see each other again and promises like that can't be fulfilled when there's a wall standing between them. Unfortunately, it's only going to be for a short amount of time, but I'll try to find a way to work things out. You should thank Nanoha for this."
He gave Lutecia the faintest nudge forward.
She took cautious steps toward the man. Zest, though trying to keep his expression still, couldn't hide the faint upward twitch at the corner of his mouth.
"You look happy," he said.
Lutecia nodded slightly, the motion hesitant but sincere.
"How have you been?" he asked, his voice stiff, as if the words were unfamiliar.
"It’s been fun here," she replied quietly. "Shirou makes me food every day, it tastes better than… um, just as good as Mama's. He plays games with me when I get bored. We go outside to the arcade when we have time. Sometimes I help him when Subaru and Teana do mock battles with my insects."
Zest opened his mouth to respond, but found himself hesitating, but she did not mind it and continued, answering before he could speak.
"Any troubles?" he asked at last.
She shook her head. "Hardly anything bad happens here, aside from the attack by the doctor. People are kind. If there’s something I need, or if I don’t like something, Nanoha and Fate help me. If Shirou is gone too long, I'll talk to other people in the Riot Force, like Erio and Caro."
One by one, Lutecia listed the things she had done. Her voice was soft, occasionally faltering, but each word carried a weight of simple honesty. There was no embellishment, just a quiet recounting of the time she had spent since arriving in Midchilda. Simple, but clearly she enjoyed them.
"I also made a new friend a few days ago," she added. "Her name is Vivio. She’s a little strange, and she cries a lot..."
"I see," Zest murmured.
"She says strange things," Lutecia continued. "She even tried calling Shirou papa and Mama at times when half asleep."
Shirou, who listened, felt his eyes twitch at that mention, just a single instance that neither Fate nor even Lutecia was planning on letting go of any time soon.
"You don’t like it?"
"I find it weird. Shirou is Shirou to me… not her papa." A small pout emerged on her face, one that she did not notice.
Bit by bit, Lutecia began to recount more of her day. Zest said little, his face unreadable, but it was clear from the calm in his posture that he was listening. At some point, the girl had seated herself beside him, her voice gradually brightening with every sentence. Her tone, once hesitant and reserved, grew lighter, even playful, more alive than the man had ever seen from her before.
Watching it unfold from a distance, Shirou couldn’t help but smile faintly. But rather than stay and interrupt, he quietly took his leave, stepping away from the reunion.
He moved through the corridor in silence until he arrived at another cell, one that held a very different kind of occupant. The woman inside was not bound, her arms and legs free, though her posture was oddly casual. She lay back on the thin mattress of her cot, humming to herself with a singsong rhythm that echoed faintly through the hall.
Her brown eyes opened the moment he approached, widening with amusement from within. She behaved like a visitor who came for a vacation rather than a prisoner.
"Oh my~," she purred. "Come to visit little old me? I’m so touched. It does wonders for my heart to see a familiar face. This place is terribly dull, you know. Not good for my complexion."
Her fingers lazily stroked her stomach as she spoke, her voice velvety and composed. Shirou didn’t react, his expression shifting from soft to flat in a blink.
"I think I heard Lady Lutecia speaking with Zest nearby," she continued, her tone as smooth as silk. "How marvelous that those two have finally reunited, a bit sad that she doesn't come by to see me, too. I must say, you must be quite proud of yourself, bringing them together and spoiling the doctor’s little plan."
"What might your plan be?" Shirou asked, at last, cutting through her theatrics with the absence of any amusement in his tone. "How long do you plan to stay like this, pretending you're harmless? We both know you were captured back then deliberately. Why, I'm not sure. But you have more to gain here than staying loyal to someone on the run. Are you hoping he’ll come to rescue you?"
Jail, that man wouldn’t lift a finger for her. Of that, Shirou was almost certain… Even if the Numbers were like daughters to him, the way he treated them made it clear that their value only extended as far as their usefulness. The more he thought about it, the more memories related to a certain old man.
"That’s quite the frightening look you’re giving me," Quattro said with mock concern, her lips curling into a lazy smile. "What will you do if I say yes? Use one of your secret weapons to force me into being your ally? Torture me, maybe? Try to make me spill everything I know?"
"I won’t do that," he said immediately without a hint of hesitation in his voice. "But I can’t guarantee someone else won’t. Hayate has already gone to great lengths to treat you decently despite you being one of the Numbers who tried to kidnap me and Vivio. She’s risking a lot by keeping this arrangement going."
The woman stood up from her bed, her hips swaying slightly as she walked to the edge of the cell’s translucent barrier, now standing less than a meter away from him. Her eyes gleamed with mischief as they locked onto his.
"This isn’t her doing," she said softly. "We both know that. You can play the role of the cold interrogator all you like, talk to me with that flat voice and piercing stare, but I know. You wouldn’t let anything happen to me." Quattro gently massaged her stomach while saying that.
He said nothing.
"Even if I am your enemy," she added, "you wouldn’t let real harm come to us. That’s just not who you are."
"You speak as though you know me," Shirou replied, a sneer tugging at the corner of his mouth. "A fair number of people here share my opinion. Nanoha, Fate, Hayate... none of them want things to escalate. They wouldn’t resort to the kind of extremes your doctor already has. So why remain loyal to someone who would throw you away the moment you lost your usefulness?"
He didn’t mask his frustration. He was still struggling to understand the reason behind her stubbornness. Part of him wondered if there was something more insidious behind it — some spell, some conditioning?
"I’m not brainwashed," Quattro said, her tone flattening. As though she had plucked the suspicion right out of his head. "Not that it matters, given most won't believe me regardless. The Numbers aren’t part of a hive mind. We’re not bound by any shared directive or preset goal. Each of us was made to be independent. Our decisions are our own."
"Then why?" he asked.
A faint smile tugged at her lips.
"Because I can." A simple response, one that he had nothing to say against. “Besides, I'll only be here for a little while. You've made a lot of friends, but it's clear they don't like me. Maybe I'll come find you to keep me safe? Just think of this fetus as a backup plan of sorts, that's all I'll say.”
“You're really going to… Hah,” barely a minute passed, and he already felt a headache coming on by just trying to make sense of her. “I don't know what you're planning, I'm not sure if it's part of Jail's plan at all or something you're doing, but whatever it is doesn't matter in the end. Wherever he is, we'll eventually find him and hopefully one day you'll come to your senses — at least for the sake of the life inside you.”
He turned his back, knowing that staying any longer would just make things worse and get him nowhere in the end.
“I'll be seeing you soon, Shirou~! Also, make sure to give Nanoha Takamichi my greetings. I can feel her seething glare all over me from the beginning of our conversation~!” Quattro said, her voice ringing in the distance as he walked past Zest's cell and near the entrance to this part of the facility, where someone else was waiting for him.
One that, just as Quattro mentioned, held a nasty look in her eyes. Though it lessened the moment he appeared.
“Thanks for bringing me here, Nanoha.” He said with genuine gratitude, facing the woman as it seemed she was monitoring everything from a screen.
“... I don't… I don't trust her.” This was the first thing she said after he returned. “That Quattro, I'm not saying that it's not admirable that you're willing to put in the effort to help her — but she's only taking advantage of it.”
He was aware of that, very much so.
“If there's a chance, then I'm willing to keep up with her.”
“She is fixated on you,” Nanoha argued back. “Willing to talk to no one except you. Even Fate could not get anything from her… What happened between you two in the cradle? This is just… odd.”
With genuine confusion, he scratched the back of his head, not knowing what to say. “I just kinda took her as a hostage?”
“She's definitely trying to coerce you to join their side by using your caring side.” She whispered, not having heard his response.
.
.
.
(An hour later)
Eventually, the group returned to his apartment once matters related to the prison were settled. Shirou kept a faint smile on his face, happy that Lutecia seemed to be in a much better mood, though his mind was elsewhere, still turning over the meaning behind Quattro's words. It was obvious the girl had her own agenda for being here, and honestly, he wasn’t sure what to do with her anymore.
"You're thinking about her again, aren't you?" Nanoha's voice came from beside him. The brunette cast him a worried glance, her hands clasped behind her back. "Feeling like this is exactly what she wants," she continued, "letting her occupy your thoughts won't solve anything. It'll only make things more difficult for you."
"You're right. I’ll just take a day off and rest," he replied, nodding slowly. That seemed like the best course of action, and besides, he was quietly looking forward to dinner tonight.
They reached the apartment, and as Shirou stepped in first to unlock the door, he barely managed to take a step inside before the sound of confetti bursting filled the room. Two voices shouted in unison, "Welcome back!"
Surprised, he blinked, taking in the sight before him. Subaru and Teana stood at the center of the living room, holding a large hand-painted banner that read "Welcome Back!" in bold, colorful letters. Confetti from the party poppers they had just fired rained down around them. Vivio stood just behind them, jumping with glee and blowing noisily into a party whistle.
There were more faces, too. Hayate and Fate were present, standing off to the side.
"What is this?" he asked, genuinely confused.
"It’s to celebrate your return after everything that happened in Midchilda!" Subaru answered cheerfully, still holding one of the poppers. "Teana and I thought a small party would help lift your mood. Fate and Hayate joined in, too. Caro and Erio should be here soon as well!"
Before he could react further, Subaru grabbed his hand and tugged him fully into the apartment, her face bright with enthusiasm. Teana, standing beside her, gave him an apologetic smile.
"This was her idea, and we had Lutecia keep this a secret," Teana admitted. "But she’s also kind of right. It’s been obvious that you’ve been carrying a lot lately, and you aren't being your usual self. We thought this might help clear your mind."
"You guys…" Shirou murmured, glancing around at the group of friends who had taken the time to put this together.
He didn’t know what to say. All he could feel was an overwhelming sense of gratitude, but it left him unsure of how to respond. "You didn’t have to go so far for me. I know things have been busy for everyone. To invest your time on something like this..."
"Don’t worry, Shirou," Fate said, stepping closer. "We wanted to. It’s not like we’re stuck working all day without rest or breaks. Besides, both Hayate and you need to stop thinking about duty for once and just enjoy yourselves."
Nanoha nodded in agreement, her expression soft. "So just relax. Let’s have some fun. Like when you first arrived and brought Lutecia along with you."
“You knew as well?” He asked, and she grinned a tiny bit.
“Of course, I had to keep you occupied, and fulfilling that request of yours was the best opportunity I had.”
As if on cue, Lutecia stood quietly in the back, her expression unreadable once again, though a faint trace of the childlike softness she used to have still lingered in her features. "There are too many parties going on here," she said softly. "But I don’t mind them."
If she was fine with it, then he certainly had no reason to object.
"All right then, this might actually be a good idea," Shirou admitted, rolling up his sleeves as he headed toward the kitchen. "I’ll cook something special for the occasio—urgh!"
Unable to even finish his sentence, the boy choked on his words as soon as several hands grabbed him all at once, one clutching the collar of his shirt while others seized his arms. In a chaotic blur of motion, they dragged him backward and dropped him straight onto the sofa.
He landed with a surprised grunt, looking up to find himself surrounded. Half the girls stood with their arms crossed, staring down at him with amused disapproval, while the others shook their heads in tandem.
"D-Did I do something wrong?" he asked, genuinely confused and, though he wouldn't admit it out loud, just a little intimidated being surrounded like this.
"This was a party we organized for you to relax and enjoy some free time," Fate said, arms crossed and in an exasperated tone. "Not for you to disappear into the kitchen and work yourself into a sweat making a feast for us. It doesn’t feel fair."
Her voice had the kind of stern edge that left no room for argument, and Shirou found himself unable to come up with a proper retort. Truthfully, the idea of anyone else stepping foot in his kitchen made him visibly uneasy — especially if it were them or worse, Lutecia and Vivio. The thought alone made him twitch, given that those two were likely to cause a fire.
"I’ll be doing the cooking," Fate added plainly, already grabbing his personal apron and wrapping it around her body.
"You don’t need to do that, Fate. Trust me, cooking for you is never a chore or something difficult for me. I enjoy it. It actually helps me relax." He tried to get up from his seat, only to be pushed back down by the blonde, who pressed her weight onto his shoulders. Surprisingly strong and close enough that some strands of her hair tickled his nose.
“Ara~! Someone is being a bit stubborn today. Does that mean you're not interested in my cooking?" she asked sweetly, though the calm smile on her face made it feel like walking straight into a trap. "Are you saying mine might not be good enough for a small celebration? Or just not good for your taste buds?"
It was the kind of smile Rin used to give him when he said something he shouldn’t have… especially that one time he just made a simple joke about her gaining weight due to her underwear feeling tight on wear. Having a reinforced pillow thrown at his face, followed by a Gandr, had taught him a valuable lesson to keep his mouth shut. Shirou quickly realized that in such situations, answering either way would land him in trouble.
"Just stay here and relax for a change. You’ve got pretty girls all around your apartment willing to spend time with you. Surely, you can try to enjoy the evening with some of them."
"Fate..." Nanoha’s voice carried a note of frustration from behind them, prompting the blonde to chuckle under her breath.
"Never mind that. Though if you're truly incapable of relaxing, then you can help set the table, if that helps."
"I also brought some sake I got as a gift a while ago from someone who was visiting Earth and brought this back," Hayate announced, earning surprised looks from the group. Lutecia and Vivio both glanced at the bottle with interest, only for Hayate to quickly shake her head.
"None for you, I’m afraid. This one’s only for us grown-ups," she said, pulling out a second bottle. "But I brought you something else, I’m sure you’ll like it."
It was juice. Vivio’s eyes lit up, clearly pleased, but Lutecia’s shoulders slumped with exaggerated disappointment as her gaze lingered curiously on the sake. In the end, she accepted her fate with quiet resignation and let the adults go about their business. Not before taking a seat on Shirou's lap, making it impossible for him to move, and bringing a controller up to his face. “Let's play.”
Understanding that resisting would not help at all, Shirou accepted his fate and let them do as they pleased.
Soon after, the last two guests arrived, Caro and Erio, each carrying a tray of desserts and treats. The atmosphere became further boisterous, and Fate and Hayate proved themselves to be quite proficient in the kitchen. “Hayate hasn't done this for a while,” Nanoha mentioned, having joined him by his side. “She used to prepare food for the Wolkenritter. Signum regularly praised her and even mentioned how others missed such moments, given how busy everyone became. As for Fate, she picked up the hobby not that long ago.”
Going by the fragrance coming from the kitchen, her words definitely held merit. Soon, time flowed, and the food was ready as they all gathered around for conversations mixed with stories.
"I’m so glad you’re safe, Emiya-san!" Erio beamed during dinner, his eyes practically glittering with excitement. "Commander Hayate told me how you fought your way out, and I saw what was left of the Saint’s Cradle. How did you manage something like that? Did you use Rubin?"
For a boy who normally carried himself with quiet maturity—often making him feel more like a grown-up than a child—this was the first time Shirou had seen him look like an actual child, utterly amazed.
"Do you want to see the sword?"
Perhaps feeling generous, or simply moved by everything that had happened that day, Shirou didn’t mind showing it. The moment he offered, everyone's attention locked onto him.
"Yes!" Erio shouted, unable to contain his excitement, which made the others chuckle.
Right before their eyes, Shirou reached into his inner world and called forth the sword from his Reality Marble. A rainbow-hued spiral emerged in the air, spinning gently before solidifying into a silver weapon. It hovered there, gleaming with radiant light, its design alien compared to what was meant to be a sword, yet mesmerizing. The very sight of it drew quiet awe from those gathered, and Hayate was just trying to make sense of the weapon.
"That's the lance that punched a hole clean through a ship that size?" She asked, stepping in for a closer look, curiosity written across her face. Erio followed beside her, equally intrigued. “From the footage I saw, it would require a ton of energy. Also, why even call it a sword?" she added, tilting her head. "It looks more like a lance."
To that, he merely shrugged. "Don't ask me. The person who owned this weapon before me called it a sword, so that's what I'm going with.”
“What's it called again?”
“Caladbolg.” As expected, no one recognized the name. Unless they were fans of the Ulster Cycle of Irish mythology, no one would recognize the name of the weapon that once belonged to Fergus mac Róich. Compared to legendary swords like Excalibur, its fame was limited in comparison.
Ironic given that Caladbolg served as a prototype for several famous holy swords, including Excalibur Galatine.
"Amazing. I've grown used to seeing you wield those black and white swords of yours, but never would I have imagined you'd have something like this as well," she said, gesturing toward the gleaming construct in his hands. He considered mentioning that they had, in fact, almost seen the sword once before when he got stranded on that planet when Rin sent him to this world by accident, though back then it had taken on the form of an arrow. Given how drastically different the two appearances were, he wouldn't fault them for failing to recognize it.
"How does it work?
"Should we have a demonstration?"
"Subaru! Are you crazy!? Did you forget what happened with the Saint's Cradle? That giant hole will destroy our apartment!"
"Relax. I was just asking." Subaru answered before trying to grab the weapon’s handle, and her eyes widened with surprise when it came close to toppling her figure. “Ah! This thing is heavy!”
“Well, its original owner was someone big enough to use it.” That made him curious about their reaction if he were to bring out Heracles’ Axe-sword.
They fired off more questions after another, and he answered each calmly and with patience. Still, Shirou noticed none of them asked what other weapons he could trace or create, choosing instead to keep their questions focused solely on this one. Whether out of respect for his privacy or simply tact, the restraint was appreciated but unnecessary. He would have answered them anyway — these were people who trusted him, and he returned that trust without hesitation.
Soon enough, they dismissed the weapon, and the conversation drifted toward lighter topics. Caro and Erio ended up in the living room, playing some kind of console game, while Shirou found himself cleaning up the table and chatting with the others. Through this, he learned more about their childhood. While bits of their past had been shared before, this time they got more details.
Once again, the thought of children being thrust into lives not far from that of soldiers left a sour taste in his mouth. The age Nanoha had been when she first received Raising Heart... at that same age, he still remembered taking care of the old man when he was still alive and feeding the always hungry Taiga. The scars of the fire back then had not fully healed, with nightmares occurring every other day.
"He probably doesn't know, but Fate used to be more… cold and broody back then."
"You're bringing that up?" Fate groaned as soon as Hayate brought up matters of the past. “It's been a while, people change.”
Hayate, on the other hand, didn't seem to have heard that and just continued her story. "Seriously, these two would always fight when they first met — rivals, really. That’s where the whole joke about Nanoha making friends by blasting them first came from."
On the other hand, Hayate had perhaps overestimated her tolerance, between the alcohol and her long day at work. She’d quietly excused herself and retreated to one of the spare rooms. Shirou took it upon himself to handle the remaining cleanup and would not take no for an answer, teasing that if he let any of them near the plates in their slightly drunken state, there would be nothing left unbroken.
With the cleaning done, he carried Vivio and Lutecia off to bed, while Carol and Alicia left the apartment shortly after with Subaru and Teana following behind to return to theirs. The previously boisterous home had settled into a calm, peaceful, quiet atmosphere, which he welcomed. After a while, Shirou headed out to the balcony and was surprised to find Nanoha already there. She leaned against the metal rail, arms crossed loosely, eyes turned toward the star-filled sky.
"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?"
She broke the silence first, sounding a bit tired. Understandable given how late it was already, the redhead already guessed most would wake up tomorrow with a headache after having drunk and eaten so much.
"Yes, it is," he replied, deciding to keep her company for a bit.
"It's rare for everyone to gather like this outside of training and missions. In the past, it barely happened, but lately, it's become more frequent. I feel like I'm being spoiled," she said with a soft laugh. "Fate's really taken her role in raising Vivio seriously, hasn't she?"
"That she has."
He joined her, standing by her side, and sniffed the air. His brow rose as he spotted the empty sake bottle on the ground.
"You drank the whole thing?" he asked, incredulous. They had shared it between themselves, but no one drank that much. Alcohol was not something he drank often, and the same could be said for everyone else from his own observation.
A sheepish smile tugged at Nanoha’s lips, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol. "I ended up bringing it with me without realizing it, felt a little thirsty... and just kept drinking. It doesn’t even taste like alcohol, and before I knew it — I think I might have overdone it."
"That's an understatement. But for someone who drank it all, you don't look that far gone," he added, even her voice did not sound slurred, outside of the flushed complexion and a slight smell; she just looked normal. “I know today was supposed to be a celebration to have me relax a bit, but I can't help but notice you're going through the same thing as well.”
For a brief moment, her body froze. From his position, he saw the girl finding herself surprised that he managed to spot that. "Was it that obvious?"
“It was hard to notice it at first, but these last few hours, you were somewhat quiet. And even Lutecia commented about that.”
"She is quite sharp," she replied quietly, not denying his words but letting them settle, holding her silence for several seconds before asking a question that took him completely by surprise.
"Shirou… do you have any bad feelings toward me? Any hatred towards me or the Time Space Administrative Bureau for bringing you here? If not hatred, then maybe regret?"
“Eh?” For a moment, he believed he had heard incorrectly, but seeing her downcast face made him realize that she was being serious.
"When you think about it, you have all the reasons to feel like that," she continued, her voice wavering, "I brought you here from Earth with the promise that we’d find a way to bring you back someday, that you'd have a better life here, something safer and more stable. But since your arrival, just think about how many attacks we’ve had to deal with. Three? Four? And Jail is still out there, still on the run, and almost certainly holding a grudge against you. It's not going to get better from here. If anything, it'll very well get worse if he tries to target you alone."
She paused, drawing a slow, unsteady breath. "I want to say that we’ll protect you, but if I said that, I’d be lying, given I already failed twice. I wasn't there during the auction, and I wasn't there that night, even your escape, I contributed nothing. I don’t want to be proven wrong again. That kind of failure would become a regret I don't think I could ever recover from."
The guilt in her voice was hard to ignore. He saw it plainly in her eyes, heard it in every syllable, and felt the previous pleasant atmosphere turn awkward. Maybe it was the alcohol making her say such things, even though he had told her previously that not once did he blame or feel faulted for such a thing.
Regardless, to Shirou, that guilt had no place.
"I made my choice to join the Riot Force with a clear conscience," he said, his voice calm but resolute. "Remember when you first found me back on Earth, back then? I actually felt miserable, out of place, practically blind to my future in a way, and just… did not know what to do anymore. That changed when you came back. I knew from the beginning that not everything would go as planned, and that there would be times when I’d face danger. I accepted that long before I ever stepped foot here."
He hoped she would understand, not just hear him, but truly understand what he was trying to say. It had become clearer over time that several people around him worried far more than they needed to. Even though he had demonstrated more than once that he was capable of defending himself, their concern hadn’t faded. But did he hate that? No, not in the slightest. Their concern came from genuine care, and after everything he had been through… he had learned how to accept that kind of kindness.
Still, even if he appreciated it, he needed them to see things from his perspective, too.
"Back when we were facing the doctor, Zest tried to sacrifice himself for me, to hold back the others while I could escape. I couldn’t accept it then, and I won't ever. If something ever happens, and one of you ends up in danger, I’ll come to help, no matter who the enemy is or what they’re trying to do. If there’s someone out there besides Jail who’s bent on hurting people and spreading chaos, I can’t just sit back and let it happen. I have to do something. I have to make sure people don’t have reasons to cry anymore, to suffer like that."
"I wish for that too," she said softly, voice lowered to almost a whisper. "But the truth is, it’s impossible to save everyone."
"I know." He turned to face her fully now, and for a moment his expression softened, a faint smile forming on his lips. "But that doesn’t mean I can’t try. I know this path won’t be easy. I know I’ll be walking into danger more times than I can count. I know I might never reach the goal I’ve set for myself, and I might never fully achieve my dream. But I’m still going to try. I’ll give it everything I’ve got, every time."
His gaze didn’t waver.
"So that is why I am not angry at you, nor do I have any regrets. Quite the opposite, I'm grateful that you came into my life, and I wouldn't want to change that. I hope you’ll let me stay by your side. Let me help you. Let me help all of you, for just a while longer. And next time... I promise I won’t get kidnapped so easily." He joked at the end, wanting to lift the mood from what it was previously.
“Shirou…”
“So don't beat yourself up for no reason, Nanoha. I've gotten to know you better, and the more I learn about you, the more I'm happy to have someone like you by my side.”
“...”
That earned him a soft, melodic chuckle from the brunette beside him. Her shoulders relaxed, and the cloud of worry that had lingered over her seemed to lift, even if only slightly. The heaviness in her eyes faded, replaced by a warmth that hadn’t been there moments ago. Her mood, finally, had begun to lighten.
“You, it's dangerous if you say such things so casually… You are really making it hard for me to figure things out and not misunderstand your intentions.” She raised her head, hazy eyes looking at his face for a long moment as she whispered. Whether it was deliberately or unconsciously, the woman's body leaned against him. “You're not great at acting, aren't you, Shirou?”
“What do you mean?”
“You're still thinking about her, aren't you?” A statement rather than a question, one that she sounded so certain about that denying it would not even work. So he just let out a breath of air before nodding his head slightly.
“It's not as bad as before, I'm just… I'm sure what she's planning to do now. I fear that she will try to use the life growing inside her as a shield and will endanger everyone involved. She called it his backup plan, what that means I don't know. What if… What if it's not just her, but there is more than one case within the Numbers? Why is he pushing them into battle knowing full well what will—”
“Shirou,” Nanoha called his name, her tone sounding more firm than before, making him turn around to gaze back, only to find her face close to his. The boy's eyes widened as the next thing he felt was the softness of her lips pressing against his.
His heartbeat went wild with several thoughts and explanations trying to make sense of the situation raging within his mind. Yet even as he tried to stay composed, the intimate gesture felt like it was melting his mind.
This went on for a handful of seconds before she pulled back, leaving him frozen in time, practically, her face looking far more crimson than earlier. For a moment, her hazy look remained before it was replaced with confusion, almost as if she was trying to find words to explain what had just happened but failed to do so.
“U-Um… t-that…” Stuttering, dodging his gaze, and looking around nervously, he heard her whisper. “F-Feel better now…?”
“... Yes.” Those words came out of his mouth before his brain could even catch up. While not a stranger when it came to such intimate moments in his life, he had not expected Nanoha of all people to do it. This made him think about every single moment they spent together and start to question just when she started feeling that way.
‘Is it the alcohol?’
Again, another question he felt he should keep to himself, as part of him knew that asking such a thing could lead to a bad situation.
“I feel much better.”
Now it felt like the alcohol was affecting him, both mentally and physically with his heartbeat showing no signs of slowing down and several explicit thoughts crossing her mind when looking at the girl in front of him, noticing small details he had not paid much attention to before, like the loose clothing which only consisted of a shirt which wasn't buttoned up all the way giving him a clear view of her breast—
Pa!
“Ah!” Nanoha yelped when Shirou, out of nowhere, slapped his face with both hands. “E-eh?”
“Nothing… my mind was just going down a different path.” Looking back at her and seeing how she was also having trouble formulating words. “Maybe the taste of the sake wasn't so bad after all.”
“...”
Did he perhaps go too strong there? The redhead was uncertain, they'd soon get his response when she answered back with,
“Want to try tasting it… again?”
She tried to look more composed and calm than before, her face already leaning against his, which he answered back by doing the same as well. This time, he welcomed her lips, tasting the alcohol and even some of the fruits she had before, her scent, her breathing, and even the slightest twitch; he felt all of it.
Surprisingly bold on her end, as she leaned in for more, he seriously started to wonder if it was the alcohol or not.
Their surroundings, his prior worries, and any other thoughts slowly disappeared and turned into a blurry haze. His hands moved on their own as he snaked around her waist and…
Flash!
“—!?”
Both of their eyes snapped open at the sudden bright light and sound of a camera's shutter, pulling themselves away from one another, wherefore but a split second, a string of saliva connected their lips. The brunettes had turned towards the source of the sound and grew more to fight upon finding a certain blonde and their commander huddled behind the door, trying to hide with the curtains while the latter held a device that had taken the picture.
“Damn it, I forgot to turn off the flash,” Hayate grumbled with Fate just staring at them with her mouth wide open and shocked. “Alright, I'll just take a video instead. You two, continue doing whatever was going on before, don't worry, Lutecia and Vivio are asleep and won't hear a thing.”
There was a clear presence of mischief within her words, though perhaps not the right time to make such a joke, as the next thing she did was dodge a white and brown blur, which happened to be Nanoha, who had tried to take away the device in her hand.
“Delete. It. Now.”
In response, Hayate just smiled cutely, tapped a few buttons, and slipped the phone into her pocket. “Tehe~”
“You!”
It had to turn into a cat-and-mouse chase. Fate remained rooted in her spot, still processing what happened. All the while, Shirou stayed outside, taking a deep breath and grateful for that small distraction.
“I almost lost myself there…”
2025-07-04 19:33:50 +0000 UTC
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Beta read by Shigiya, Paragon of Awesomeness and Gamercrusher55.
Earlier than expected.
Next update update is Lyrical Sword.
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-Underworld-
"So… this is a fight between Servants?"
The words slipped from Koneko's mouth in a near-whisper as she watched the beginning of the fierce exchange unfolding below as she stood on Tannin’s back with the rest of her peerage. Her golden eyes followed every motion, fixed on the battlefield where the chaos of combat reigned. It differed greatly compared to the first encounter she recalled him having with Rider.
Back then, even though Archer had resorted to his swords almost immediately despite being a Servant class better suited to ranged combat, she had seen glimpses of his power through a haze of fear — barely managing to stay conscious, let alone focus. The Rating Game against Riser and his battle against Assassin had also given the Nekoshou a glimpse of his skill set.
Witnessing his proficiency in fighting up close had served to further confuse not just her, but even the others, as to wonder if their Archer was perhaps better suited to the Saber Class.
But this was different. This time, she saw him finally use his bow to the full extent of his ability.
"He really was holding back on us even more than we thought, wasn't he?" Yuuto muttered beside her, his voice low with awe. Alongside him, the rest of their peerage stood tense and watchful as Archer loosed arrow after arrow at the roaring behemoth that was Berserker.
"I remember Buchou mentioning that he once trained you all for over a week before the Rating Game against the third son of Phenex, right?" Kiyome asked, her tone curious as she glanced at Issei for a second. Several nods answered her, but she barely noticed as her attention shifted back to the streaking projectiles flying across the sky. "If he was training you while firing projectiles like that… I’ll be honest, I’m shocked you’re all still alive and that you still have your limbs intact. Those arrows look more like those high-calibre bullets I've seen on TV."
A strange way to phrase it, yet somehow entirely accurate. Akeno, who had been silent up to this point, let out a light chuckle, though her gaze remained locked on Archer's silhouette.
"I guess you could say he was going easy on us."
Koneko, while listening, noticed the subtle shaking of Akeno's hands. The way her fingers curled tightly into her palms, the faint tremble in her knuckles, betrayed a side not often seen in the composed raven-haired woman. Her usual elegance was fraying under the weight of worry. Emotions peeked through the cracks. "Even with how strict he was, Archer would never truly hurt us. Just like now, he’ll keep us safe."
The Rook found herself nodding in agreement, for he had proven as much many times in the past, and there was no reason to believe otherwise. That trust was felt not only by Akeno and Rias, but also herself, and everyone else currently standing on the Dragon King’s back.
"Archer will be fine, right? He’s the strongest member in our peerage! I believe in him!" Gasper’s voice was higher than usual, a thin veil over the fear he was clearly trying to keep at bay. And yet, he was clearly scared, perhaps more than anyone, but still willing to loudly speak words of encouragement while they were all in the air.
Below, the tempo of the fight began to shift. Previously, he managed to keep Berserker pinned in one location by constantly sending him flying back after repeatedly nailing him with the arrows time and again. Now, more of those thundered into the battlefield, yet Berserker showed signs of somehow… adapting?
“Y-Yes, the last skill is Imperial Privilege. I-I don’t know how it’s even possible, but—”
Ears twitched with each of the redhead’s words, clearly being exchanged with Archer — all heard by Koneko’s sensitive ears. Her heart dropped, and she just looked at how paler her King's face became… It wasn't hard to figure out that this Skill brought bad news.
“What does Imperial Privilege mean, Buchou?” Kiyome asked immediately.
Rias looked at the battle with a somber expression. “It's… It's a Skill that allows a Servant to temporarily gain virtually any Skill that they do not possess for a brief amount of time. And… Berserker’s identity… It's Caligula, according to Archer.”
“Caligula?” Issei repeated the name but remained clueless. And while a few recognized the name on a surface level, the only one whose eyes widened upon hearing it was Asia.
“I-I learned of him during my history studies when I was raised by the church in Italy. H-He's a Roman emperor; one of the worst tyrants in Rome’s history.”
After getting this information, Koneko looked at the battle with far more worry than earlier. Once-unavoidable shots were now being dodged, or worse, fully deflected by punches of all things. The blue-haired Heroic Spirit's monstrous resilience seemed to defy logic, gaining speed and closing the distance bit by bit. Each impact no longer guaranteed damage, unsettling even the Devils watching.
"Looks like this Servant’s madness hasn’t completely overtaken his sense for battle," commented the dragon beneath them, his voice calm. Tannin continued flying in a wide arc, eyes always returning to the clash below. Still, despite the commentary, he remained composed. “Berserker, an apt way to describe the Heroic Spirit, he reminds me of Vritra. From your conversation with your own Servant, Rias Gremory, I take it that these Berserkers receive a boost in strength at the expense of their sanity?”
“Do you know of some weakness of Caligula’s that Archer can use?” their King asked desperately, wanting to help him out in any way.
“Not anything your Servant already does not know. Outrage, as we call it, can only be removed through exhaustion or a stronger force subduing it in battle. But it does come with the advantage of making one's actions much more predictable. If you're fast enough to react in time or wise enough to predict them, that is.”
Using your opponent’s berserk state to one's advantage? That thought sounded so ridiculous given what Koneko felt at the moment. Even from afar, she could sense the pressure rolling off Berserker in waves.
His madness was practically screamed into the world like an avalanche, a flood of malice and fury that made her bones shiver. Unlike Rider, whose presence had felt like the chill of a natural predator lurking beyond her sight whilst casting an all-encompassing shadow, this golden-armored monstrosity was a storm made flesh.
"Archer!" she called out reflexively, her heart clenching.
Their exchange didn’t last long. Berserker finally managed to close the distance between them. Her heart shook at the sight of his bow shattering into countless shards, given that the very same weapon in the past had managed to break any of Sword Birth's creations with ease. Thankfully, Archer proved himself to be fast enough to dodge the attacks and re-created the bow, followed by another devastating wave of arrows that tore through the air.
Then two copies of what appeared to be altered versions of Excalibur Destruction were fired at his opponent's feet. The force of their impact carved a gigantic hole deep into the earth, shaking the very ground. This was followed by several more projectiles being bombarded within the hole, with fire spewing out of it.
"Dear God—argh! Um, fucking shit… Th-That should be enough, right?" Issei asked, his eyes drifting toward Rias. There was hesitation in his voice, a need for reassurance.
But Rias didn’t answer. Her lips were parted slightly, her brows drawn together in worry. Even she had no certainty now.
"If that isn’t enough to kill him…" Issei’s tone grew harsher, frustration swelling. "Then what the hell are we going to do? I say we go down there and help him! We can’t just leave him to handle everything all by himself!"
"Issei, we need to stay calm and follow his words."
"Calm my ass, Kiba! I may not like that guy much, but he’s still part of our peerage! No way in hell that—"
"Archer!"
Rias’s terrified scream rang out, followed in chorus by Akeno, Asia, and Kiyome’s cries. Every head turned just in time to witness the golden blur that had somehow, in the blink of an eye, appeared to have jumped out of the hole and was now above the bow-wielding Servant. Berserker’s foot nearly collided with Archer’s face, with the latter using one of his swords to block it, yet it still launched his body like a shooting star across the landscape. Dirt and debris exploded in every direction, a massive trench carved into the earth where he tumbled violently through rock and rubble.
"That crazy bastard is still not dead!?"
The shocked exclamation mirrored what each of them was thinking. How could something like that even exist? How could any being endure that kind of barrage and still stand tall? Berserker’s armor was only mildly damaged, marred with a few cracks, but no real wounds marred his skin. There were a few mild burns, some blood, but nothing serious, much less anything that indicated he’d been struck by a barrage capable of leveling a small town.
Koneko shuddered at the sight. The sheer force, the power… it made her body tense with dread at the idea of facing a Servant herself even in a hypothetical future where she was as strong as Kuroka.
"We can’t leave him behind, Buchou," she whispered to Rias, her voice trembling. The small girl shared the same sentiment that Issei and Asia held deep in their hearts, the desperate desire to go down there and do something — anything — to help him.
But a heavy hand settled on her shoulder, and she looked up to see Yuuto’s face. The Knight’s usual soft expression had hardened.
"I know you won’t like hearing this," he said quietly, "but going down there will only bring more trouble. We won't be able to help him, not truly. Even I doubt we could buy him any time, let alone land a single blow. Remember what happened to Sona’s team when they tried to assist Rider against Saber."
The blonde's voice wasn’t scolding. The others heard him too, whether he meant them to or not. The words hung in the air like a court sentence none of them wanted to accept.
But it was the truth nonetheless.
As strong as they liked to believe they had become, as proud as they were to have trained under Archer and defeated Riser, none of that prepared them to face a Servant like this. Not one consumed by madness, and a level of raw strength that clearly surpassed even Rider’s.
Koneko said nothing. Her lips quivered, and her golden eyes brimmed with frustration. She wanted to shout that they would not abandon him like her sister did. That she had grown stronger. That she would never repeat the mistakes of her past… but her body betrayed her heart. She could feel it, if she set a single foot on that field, her knees would buckle and fall — turning her into nothing but a burden.
She hated it. Hated that helplessness more than anything.
"No. We must go back to him."
Even Rias’s composure was beginning to crumble. The tide of battle had shifted. Long-range assaults had favored Archer, but now Berserker had forced the fight into close quarters. Archer was being pushed back, blow by blow, his footing slipping under the relentless advance of the golden juggernaut.
They could see it now. Blood splattered through the air. Then, the two Servants broke apart, separating once more. They stood still, unmoving, locked in place as if caught in some unseen standoff.
"Is it over? Why isn’t he attacking? Did he win?" Issei asked, hope flickering behind his words.
No one answered. Not because they didn’t want to, but because they couldn’t. Every eye was fixed on Berserker. Something had changed.
Koneko saw it first.
The Rook’s eyes widened. The twisted fury on Berserker’s face had softened. Clarity gleamed behind his eyes as he stared at the illusory moon in the Underworld’s sky, and then a wide, malevolent grin stretched across his face. His head tilted back toward the sky. His lips moved silently, whispering some unknown verse, and in an instant, something shifted. The air warped with blue waves of Magical Energy bursting from his body.
“Huh, what was that, Archer? What is Berserker doing?” Rias kept trying to get an answer from Archer as if that would explain the unseen dread pounding through Koneko.
Her instincts screamed at her, louder than ever before.
"We need to leave! We need to get awa—"
But it was too late.
A pillar of dense blue light erupted from his position, blasting upward like a lance aimed directly at the heavens. It looked as if it tried to strike the moon itself, even though it wasn’t real, or perhaps it struck the space around it, twisting the sky itself. And before Koneko’s eyes, the false celestial body above them began to change.
“Look up there!”
The others noticed it as well.
The twilight sky, once soft, had now twisted. The moon, once silver and serene, had become a blood-drenched orb, glowing with a grim, unnatural bright blue light that bathed everything beneath it in an ominous hue. That same light seemed to stretch for as far as the eye could see and blanketed the entire region. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong. She could feel it immediately. Not just in the air, but in herself, in the dragon beneath them, and in every flicker of energy that surrounded them.
It hit them like a hammer.
"Argh!" several voices cried out at once, and then came the roar, a guttural, thunderous bellow. Tannin bucked violently as if possessed, his wings flaring wide and wild. He had lost control. Madness gleamed in its eyes, pure and animalistic, as its body twisted and jerked through the air.
"Ah!” They all shouted in unison as the dragon reared up, hurling them all from its back. Wind whipped at them, a fierce gale caused by the violent flapping of its wings. They were tossed like leaves in a storm, and with the chaos seeping into their minds, none of them had the clarity of mind to bring out their wings to halt their fall.
Koneko hit the ground hard, her body crashing to the ground, unable to even think about landing safely. Her increased durability as a Rook managed to mitigate and absorb most of the damage, leaving her a bit battered and bruised but otherwise whole. But physical pain was the least of her concerns.
The storm of negative emotions and madness washed over her.
“A-Ah!”
It clawed at her mind like a starving beast sinking its claws deeper within. Her pained howls turned into growls, her voice warping between hiccups, snarls, and incoherent cries. It was as though a war raged inside her, a storm of chaos and fury tearing through every corner of her soul. Her demonic energy surged wildly, no longer held in check. Her Nekoshou powers burst out with it, and now even nature energy was seeping into her, adding to the uncontrollable mix.
The very power she had desperately not wanted to control her was now coming out in full force.
"Hng!" she cried, as tears streamed down her dirt-streaked face. Her body ached, burned, twisted under the pressure of too many forces fighting for control. Her mind screamed with an avalanche of emotion — hatred, confusion, despair, bloodlust, and the echoing screams of people lost in battle.
The thoughts were deafening. She clawed at her arms, her nails digging into her own flesh in a desperate attempt to anchor herself in something, anything. She wanted… no, needed to stop the chaos in her head through any method possible.
Her body convulsed again. The conflicting energies continued to battle until, at last, one began to weaken and the others swelled in strength. As long as it managed to lessen the pain pounding through her skull, the Nekoshou no longer cared about its origins and accepted it desperately. Her shape shifted as her power altered her physical form — snow white ears burst from her head, a single cat’s tail whipped behind her, and her round pupils narrowed into slits, her golden orbs now glowing faintly in the moonlight like those of a cat.
“B-Buchou? Akeno?” She called several names, searching for her friends, worrying about their state after falling from such a height. Even as Devils with enhanced physical traits, it did not make them immune to dying from high falls. So Koneko started stumbling across the dark forest with a limp at first, not even realizing that the pain had begun to fade at a vastly accelerated rate, with the limp disappearing in a matter of seconds.
Obvious to the increasing changes all across her body, her nails sharpening further, or the way her features began to look less human and more like a cat. Her focus was fixed on finding the other members of the peerage, pushing her sense of hearing and smell to their limit — barely managing to trace their direction. Somewhere, beyond the screaming in her head that she could not even tell if they were real or not.
She blinked, her vision blurred, and blood stained her cheeks. But for a heartbeat, she saw familiar shapes colored in red in her darkening world, all the figures lying on the ground.
"Issei-senpai…? Asia…? Akeno…?" Her voice was a faint whisper, her words trembling as she tried to speak with a hoarse voice. Her legs wobbled beneath her, but she forced them to move, staggering forward across the cracked earth.
The white haired Rook didn’t know what she was doing, nor where she was meant to go, but her legs carried her forward regardless. Unthinking, almost dreamlike, she wandered until her path led to a clearing soaked in the stench of blood. Bodies lay strewn across the earth, unmoving, and her breath caught in her throat at the sight. Standing among them was Yuuto, his chest heaving, a bloodstained sword gripped tightly in his hand.
There was no trace of the kind-hearted senpai she once knew. The kindness that had always lingered in his gaze was gone, replaced by a vacant glare that froze her in place. The moment his eyes landed on her, he let out a grunt and surged forward, blade raised high.
"S-Senpai!?" she cried out, startled, as her body leapt into the air with speed and strength that surprised even her. Soaring higher than expected, but he pursued her relentlessly, slashing upward, each wild swing cleaving through trees as though they were paper.
"W-What happened to you? Please co-come back to your senses!" she pleaded, dodging blow after blow with desperate grace, her body moving on instinct. She couldn’t bring herself to strike him… unwilling to hurt him.
But he didn’t stop. His strikes held no rhythm, no precision — just rage and chaos.
"Ah!" she cried out as one errant swipe tore across her forearm, blood spilling freely as pain lanced up her arm. The sound of her pain seemed to jolt him.
He froze, trembling with the sword stopping a hairbreadth away from the girl.
"Ko… neko?" he whispered with a shaky voice, eyes clouded with conflict. His grip on the sword tightened, now clear that he found himself fighting something within himself. “Bu… Buchou…?”
“I'm trying to find them, I-I don't know what's going on, but we need to get away from here quickly!” Her instincts continued screaming at the girl to distance herself from the battle going on between the Servants ever since the fake moon changed. She did not know how or what exactly Berserker did, but it affected everyone. “The others… they…”
Eyes looking behind him, the blonde followed along and saw the other members of the Peerage lying on the ground with various wounds on their bodies. Several, which looked like they came from a sword… his own eyes now at her sight, widened with horror.
His hands moved.
“Yuuto!” Much to her disbelief, he suddenly flipped the blade and drove it straight into his own thigh, the weapon plunging into the earth beneath him with a sickening crunch.
"Urgh!"
"What are you doing!?" she shouted, panic flooding her voice as she dropped to her knees to pull the sword free. But before she could, his hands latched onto her arms, strong and trembling.
"R-Run… I can't… co-control," he murmured, barely coherent. "I can't…"
Another sword formed within his grasp, this one aimed straight for his stomach. Perhaps thinking of trying to incapacitate himself, but the sight alone terrified the girl, telling her of a more cruel fate. That sight was enough that she could not allow it to happen.
“Stop!”
She didn't hesitate. Clenching her jaw and striking his temples.
He collapsed before he even hit the ground. She caught him, heart pounding, and quickly snapped off the hilt and upper half of the sword, leaving only the blade buried in his thigh to prevent the wound from bleeding excessively. Her hands trembled, but she forced herself to move.
"What should I do? What should I do?" she whispered to herself in panic, eyes scanning the dark clearing. Relief flooded her that he and the rest were still breathing, but her mind spun. That’s when she saw the red moon again, high in the sky, casting its dreadful light.
Her instincts continued to scream: run, hide, shield yourself.
She dragged Yuuto, stumbling over roots and rocks, trying to think, trying not to give in to fear. Around her, she spotted other members of their peerage, unconscious and scattered. She moved quickly, gathering them all one by one, limbs burning, until a dense grove of trees nearby presented itself after a few seconds of searching.
The canopy above was thick enough that it nearly blotted out the sky. With effort, she dragged them under the natural cover, then heaved a heavy boulder in place to further block the light. Only then did the crawling sensation across her skin begin to fade.
It didn’t vanish, not fully, but it dulled, like a voice muffled behind a wall.
“BOOBS!”
“Kya!”
Like a startled cat, Koneko jumped with fright as soon as one of the peerage members woke right back up as she tried to carry him back to the shade. Her fist reared back, ready to knock him unconscious like with Yuuto and stop him from doing anything drastic, she found herself surprised when she discovered a different kind of madness in his eyes. Albeit a familiar one.
A perverted gleam which settled on her chest, before realizing nothing of note was there, and the raging lust faded.
…Honestly, she just wanted to punch his lights out anyway, just because.
“Issei… senpai?”
At that word, Issei’s face became confused. A glow from his arm appeared, and clarity returned to his eyes.
“Wha… What's going on? Where are the others? Why is my body covered in cuts!? Ah! It hurts!” he shouted, rolling around but still being his usual self — which further confused her. “Wait… you have cat ears!? And a tail?! You now definitely look like our school mascot cat girl!”
Cat… ears? The comment took her by surprise as she went ahead and touched her forehead and indeed found the soft sensation of those ears brushing against her fingers. This along with the tail she finally realized was present and several other changes which made her heartbeat accelerated with uncertainty.
“I-It’s nothing… forget you saw this, just tell me how you are not affected?”
He looked at her, confused, “Affected? I… don't remember what happened. Last thing I recall was sitting on Tannin and then the moon turned blood red all of a sudden… and… w-what…?”
[I advise you not to stay out in the open any longer than necessary, partner. Or else that madness will return.]
“Ddraig?” Both of them looked at the red gauntlet manifesting upon the boy's arm.
[The enemy Servant is using some sort of ability that affects your psyche as long as you're exposed to the moonlight. Since I am but a soul trapped in a Sacred Gear, I remained unaffected since I am not really exposed to it, and could smack your mind back to reality for at least a short while. But if you stay out here any longer, then you'll succumb to it again.]
That… so it really was the light of the moon after all.
“Get behind that stone, Issei-senpai, that's where most of our friends are. Make sure nothing bad happens to them. I’ll keep looking for everyone else, including Buchou.”
“What? No! I should help too!” he insisted. “Ddraig can just keep smacking my mind to keep me sane, and we can both find Buchou!”
[I highly advise you not to do that,] Ddraig replied again with a sigh. [Falling under the moonlight’s effect and being freed from it already consumed a ton of your energy. A couple more times, and you will collapse from mental exhaustion; your mind and body are still not strong enough for such things. Besides, your friend is right, we are not alone in this forest, and creatures who lost themselves to the madness may also attack anything nearby. It is your duty to keep your comrades safe.]
The brown-haired Pawn grimaced, unable to even say anything against that, for he also agreed with it. “Damn it!” he cursed, but no longer tried to leave. “Just make sure you're back soon, okay? Or else I'll be coming to find both you and Buchou!”
Koneko nodded, rushing outside and leaving the boy alone, who sat under the shade.
"Where… where is she…" she muttered in a shaking breath, her eyes scanning the area desperately. Rias was nowhere to be seen. Her heartbeat quickened with dread, but her feet refused to stay still. She pushed forward through the woods, following the echoes of clashing steel in the distance.
Her fear built with every step, yet she did not stop, bursting into a clearing just in time to see a brilliant flash of light that filled her vision entirely.
And then, just like that, everything vanished.
{Break}
(Earlier)
At the end of the day, he had no choice but to use it. His trump card, so to speak. The sole craft he had, the only one he could master, and the very same that he pushed beyond all precedent until it branched itself into a completely different form of magecraft from Projection. One that defined his being, the path he had walked, and the crystallization of his life’s purpose.
The very first verse defined the Heroic Spirit's existence as a tool — a weapon — for others to use, with his bones being the core.
“Steel is my body and fire is my blood.”
The second version reinforced the imagery of his physical being, a sword that the world wielded for its purpose. A sword that had no thought or purpose but simply perpetuates those of the wielder, whether it be good or evil.
His Master had always shown interest in the details of his Noble Phantasm, and so had the others. Though he never really gave them a complete answer. Instead, he offered a brief explanation, stating that it was part of his Tracing magecraft. That answer had always sufficed.
The concept of a Reality Marble would have proven itself tricky to fully explain and would have led to more questions prying deeper. Explaining it would have been a waste of breath, at least in his eyes. After all, he hoped there would never come a day when he would be forced to use it. Still, if she ever insisted — if Rias truly pressed him to reveal the truth — he would have without much hesitation. Casting aside his silence without protest, and telling her everything.
While the Reality Marble required time to fully activate, even its preliminary aria had begun to alter the world around him. His connection with his Master allowed the marble to draw freely from her demonic energy reserves, and he was certain she could maintain it for an extended duration if need be. The shift in the air drew the attention of both Berserker and, to his mild surprise, Saber. Even in her maddened state, she retained enough instinct to recognize a threat. Her aggression surged, a feral response to the unknown force she felt stirring.
"I have created over a thousand blades."
He whispered while Sparks flew as Kanshou and Bakuya clashed against Clarent, the weapons reduced to silver blurs, their presence focused entirely on defence. A trademark of all the countless weapons he’s forged to survive the scarred moments of his life. One that Rias had gotten a glimpse of in the past from his time as a Counter Guardian, and even before that.
‘She’s not using her Noble Phantasm,’ he thought as he held off Saber. ‘Mordred… her fighting style differs from Artoria’s quite a bit, calling it a polar opposite would be valid. From what Rider said, having a brawler approach with her strength. In her current state, that makes her no different from another Berserker but moving more instinctively rather than with a plan in mind.’
His point was proven when, upon deflecting her sword with Kanshou, the woman tried to go for his throat with her other hand and completely disregarded any defense. He pushed Bakuya to slice upwards and cut through her front armor, a gash that drew some blood all the way to her chin. Her fingers missed their target as he leaned back at the last second.
‘No reaction to the pain, no red lightning gathering around her sword. She's a juggernaut, but even those can eventually fall if they make a single mistake—!?’
Any follow-ups were rendered impossible when an actual Berserker descended from above and crashed in the spot where Archer was standing before jumping away at the last possible second. ‘Tch, did he notice I was going to go for the kill at that moment? He's not as aggressive as before and is using Saber to tire me down while making sure I don't use anything that might tilt things to my favor…’
This realization made him chuckle. The Emperor of Death really did live up to his sadistic reputation.
‘At least I won't have to worry about Clarent Blood Arthur. If her madness prevents its activation because she doesn’t have the mental clarity to actually say its name, then that’s an edge I’ll gladly keep. Of course, that’s just a hopeful guess. The last thing I need is to be caught off guard because I underestimated my opponent.’
A violent wave of heat exploded near their position, the blast throwing both Servants across the battlefield. The roar of the dragon echoed from above, vibrating through the air with enough force to rattle the bones of anyone nearby.
‘Even a dragon can’t ignore the effects of Caligula's Noble Phantasm. Since I can still sense my Master, that likely means Tannin came straight after us. The others should still be alive… but if this goes on, then I can't guarantee what might happen to them. Given communication has already become impossible, Rias must be going through the same effects as everyone here.’
"Raaaarg!"
Clarent struck again with savage fury, crashing down against the married twin blades. Berserker’s relentless assault continued, each strike aimed at whatever small gaps he could exploit. Archer had already begun tracing additional weapons into the air, launching them in quick succession to keep the golden-armored tyrant at bay.
It was too much; if he didn’t finish soon, he would lose the fight. A fact emphasized by how quickly he was being pushed back by these monstrously strong opponents.
"Hn! U-Unknown to death, nor known to life.”
Their efforts would eventually corner him, and he could feel it. So, he hurried with the remaining verses to his aria. The prior words painted his bleakness of no longer knowing whether he could truly be touched by life nor death. He was an existence outside of such concepts. An aberration.
"Have withstood pain to create many weapons."
He had been forced to contradict his old beliefs in order to preserve this ungrateful world over and over again.
Saber… she was every bit as dangerous as Berserker in close quarters. Whenever Clarent was parried or momentarily locked down, she charged in with unrelenting force. Her fists, her legs, it didn’t matter. She struck with raw, explosive power, enhanced by the violent discharge of Mana Bursts that cracked through her limbs like rolling thunder.
The most frustrating opponent to contend with though was, without question, the dragon. Each blast of fire it unleashed was strong enough to reshape the very terrain, carving out deep craters and scorching everything in its path. While a single hit wouldn’t be enough to kill him outright, it would certainly knock him out of the fight long enough for the others to finish the job. He knew this all too well.
Berserker knew it too.
The Roman Emperor was watching closely, waiting for him to switch to his bow. That would be his moment to strike. If Archer gave him that opportunity, he would fail not only to bring down the dragon but would also lose his foothold in the battle. Fortunately for them, that wasn’t part of his plan. He had no intention of drawing his bow anytime soon.
"Yet, those hands will never hold anything.”
The revelation that he himself was a weapon that would most likely never reach his goal, but just a tool to be wielded, and would never achieve genuine happiness or justice.
Even when facing the three warriors in front of him, part of him already knew that victory would be bleak at best. If no light existed at the end of the tunnel, then fulfilling his duty as a Servant to his Master remained his top priority. For he felt gratitude at the small instances of what could only be described as a regular life by being a regular teacher, and all the many sources of enjoyment he’d been provided, a harsh truth was now rearing it head — all things eventually came to an end.
His resolve matched their aggressiveness, but Berserker sensed the changes growing and so did Saber. The former’s presence completely filled the Counter Guardian's vision, using the same technique from before and aiming for any opening. His legs, arms, and head, all of them assaulted by several punches from Berserker, forcing him to push his Mind's Eye to its limit to avoid and deflect all the blows along with keeping track of both the dragon and Saber… the latter of whom was no longer holding her sword.
“—!”
Even when seeing it at the corner of his eyes, it took everything he had just to keep dodging or it would just pierce and damage his Spirit Core. For a brief moment, he recalled an old memory flashing within his mind, a dark figure turned into a being corrupted to become the grail. Each of its tendrils piercing his body and damaging his core. Fe was no Lancer with Battle Continuation to sustain himself against anything short of destroying his core. With Berserker aiming for a lethal hit that could not be ignored, the white-haired Servant didn't have much time to think about his next course of action.
‘This is just a small sacrifice.’
Woosh!
Clarent reached his side in an instant, thrown with monstrous strength and speed no different from one of his own projectiles. The blade sinking into his flesh, the size of the weapon nearly dismembering his entire right arm from his shoulders, and in an instant, the bloodied sword coming out from the other side and pinned him against a boulder.
The pain itself, with Mordred's red lightning making his flesh feel like they were on fire. Yet he kept his calm, gray eyes gazing at crimson… with death being just a few feet away, he whispered.
"So as I pray, Unlimited Blade Works.”
A flash of light blinded the Servants for a brief second before everyone in the vicinity ended up getting pulled into his own world filled with an endless graveyard ocean of swords.
.
.
.
A world that overlapped with reality, materializing one's inner world, and a space completely cut off from the outside. The most advanced form of Bounded Field magecraft that touched upon the realm of True Magic. Yet still not completely there, but rested on the border with it, and Grand Magecraft almost touching in between both. His mystics, driven to the extreme in order to override the real world with his inner one.
Emiya stood alone at the center of it all — the culmination of his magecraft, the pinnacle of everything he had ever forged with Clarent still embedded in his body, his right arm barely hanging by a few strands of muscle while blood dripped down his unresponsive fingers.
A sky heavy with smoke and iron clouds loomed above, pressing down with a suffocating weight. The air was thick and almost made it seem like it would be hard to breathe, filled with the scent of ash and steel. Colossal gears rotated in the heavens, grinding slowly and endlessly, echoing the rhythm of a world that reflected his soul.
“Flucticulus Diana, a curse of madness bestowed upon you by the Goddess of the Moon, that you can force on others. A Noble Phantasm befitting your legend, Caligula. So as a courtesy, I bring you mine.”
“…”
Caligula gazed at him before looking around at the Reality Marble, with the others who’d been pulled in doing the same.
The ground stretched endlessly before him, a field of countless swords jutting from the earth like gravestones, silent tributes to the forgotten legends he had once imitated. Not one was an original, not even the paired blades he relied on most. Each was a forged replica, conjured from his own Magical Energy after glimpsing the genuine article. And yet, despite being imitations, they faithfully carried the form and will of the true weapons they sought to echo.
They glanced upward. With all of them now inside his Reality Marble, the effects of that Noble Phantasm should have ended. There was no moon here, no conduit for Berserker to corrupt others with the same madness he’d suffered any further.
And thus he looked back at Berserker with a tired smile.
“You were too slow to kill me, Emperor of Death.”
“…”
No response came from the opposing Servant.
“Your own insanity has lessened, that much is clear. You can understand me, and you are no longer chained to that curse of yours. It's unlikely for you to currently have a reason to do battle with me for a Grail that might not even exist. So why continue fighting?”
Again, no answer came from the man who continued to stare back at him. Part of him figured he was perhaps looking for answers where there were none. The emperor who was once admired by his people as a benevolent ruler was long gone, or perhaps his desire for a wish to be granted trumped everything else, even if the likelihood of that existing was near zero.
“I see.”
At the end of the day, it was not his task to change the mind of a fellow Servant. Not to mention, even with clarity returning to the emperor — Archer still would not put any level of trust in him.
‘The effects of Flucticulus Diana should be gone by now, right?’ Unfortunately, one look into Saber’s eyes told him otherwise.
Madness still lingered in those orbs, where clarity would hopefully return at any moment. But… the chances of this outcome making things worse were not lost on him. He'd much rather deal with a berserk Mordred unable to fully use her abilities due to rage than one who came back to her senses.
For they were not allies.
Regardless, how long the effects of Berserker’s Noble Phantasm would remain, he couldn’t say. But the glow in her gaze was unmistakable, still with her innate Magic Resistance, it should not take that long…
“▂▃▃▅▅ーーー!”
A deep roar rumbled through the sky as the dragon, now pulled into the Reality Marble with the rest of them, reacted violently to the new setting. Its wings flared, and its gaping maw opened wide. A dense cloud of smoke billowed from its throat as it began to channel a mass of concentrated fire, forming into a seething orb nearly twice the size of its own head.
“Hah…” Taking a slow breath, Archer let go of his thoughts. He cast away his concern for the people outside and of the driving force behind Caligula — now fully fixed his focus on the three threats before him.
‘With Gaia absent, there is no natural suppression of magecraft. Even if this world has something akin to Gaia watching over it — and it most likely does — there are no signs of hostility from it, actively being aggressive towards me. Not toward humans. Not toward supernatural beings. My Unlimited Blade Works would hold for longer than it could in my world.’
And even if some force did attempt to erase it, the constant magical flow he received from Rias would be more than enough to maintain its form for a great deal longer.
"Two Servants. One dragon," he muttered as he studied them calmly. Each stared back at him with wary eyes, their stances guarded and ready. “Urgh!”
Swiftly, the red sword was pulled away from his shoulders. Sound of the metal sliding out of his flesh, more blood pooling down below, and an arm that refused to budge. ‘Thankfully, my spirit core remains intact; if this had hit my chest then I would have been done.’
Berserker’s Noble Phantasm had already been neutralized. Now it was only a matter of time before Saber regained her senses as well — a small period of time he would use to his advantage. His plan had never been to kill the feisty blonde unless absolutely necessary… even if her actions were not done under the right state of mind. The real threat, the one he needed to eliminate first, was the most unpredictable force on the battlefield.
The Dragon King.
His eyes locked onto the winged creature in the sky, and his world responded to his will in an instant. Raising his still intact arm in the air with Clarent now in his hand, weapons started to materialize around and above him. Their numbers did not stop until they were in the thousands, growing numerous enough to block out a portion of the sky.
The floating weapons cast a shadow over the two opposing Servants, and Berserker was about to make a move.
They all fired simultaneously, raining down from the sky with there being no way to escape or block it all out. Mordred's figure braced as she raised up her arms, getting drowned by a sea of steel as she backed away from the onslaught, while Caligula once more proved his strength and speed by punching the closest sword, shattering it into several shards and the shockwave knocking many others back. But even that would not be enough against the sheer number of them.
Several weapons left cuts, the same golden spear from before even pierced his thigh, which the emperor removed and threw away.
The Servants were forced to keep their distance.
‘That should buy me enough time,’ he thought while bringing his attention back to the dragon.
"▂▃▅▅ーー！"
Tannin responded with fury. The black dragon’s maw opened wide as it prepared another devastating breath attack, only this time, the attack was different.
A massive ball of flame condensed around a newly created crag of molten rock, ballooning into a meteor-sized projectile created by the greatest phantasmal species, and shrouded in flames and lightning.
With a thunderous blast, the dragon launched it directly toward Archer’s position, tearing through the air with blistering speed. Demonic energy, pushing it ever further.
‘It’s much more dense than before. Getting hit by that in my current state or even before would be idiotic… looks like he hasn't recovered from Berserker's Noble Phantasm, but I can't say how long he will stay like this compared to Mordred.’
He frowned. ‘If the effects of this maddened dragon linger any longer, even without the moonlight, then I’ll have to deal with him first.’
After all, only a fool would underestimate a dragon.
Woosh!
Tannin fired the attack, the meteor several times the size of Archer, and heading straight for him. Several giant greatswords lined up together in a circular pattern, with several stacked across one another like a line of barricades. Though those were shattered rather quickly upon impact, despite lowering its overall momentum, the attack continued to push past them till it broke through and hit a translucent pink film taking the shape of a blooming flower with seven petals.
Even in his maddened state, Tannin faltered. His massive head tilted in confusion. The magic wasn’t one he was familiar with, and his confusion grew even more upon finding an empty space behind Rho Aias, sensing something next to its head before bringing up its forearm just in time to block a slash from Clarent. The sword left a faint gash as it parted the scales, but the wound itself was superficial.
‘Should have expected this, even in this world, a dragon is still a dragon. Clarent, while powerful in its own right, is not the most effective sword against it.’
Several swords flashed across his mind, with a throw, Clarent went flying from his hand to Tannin, which the latter spun to dodge quite fast, especially for someone his size, with the scaly tail literally whipping the sword away. This sent it flying across the Reality Marble and the dragon proceeded to lunge towards him as if intending to take a bite out of him.
Only to be met by a pillar of blue light bursting from another greatsword held within Archer's grasp. The Servant had gotten close, far faster than the Dragon had realized. Instinctively, Tannin curled his wings inward to shield himself.
“Balmung!”
The pillar crashed into the dragon's body point-blank, forcing a pain-filled roar from its jaws. With a brutal shriek of shearing flesh, the burst of blue holy Magical Energy started to tear through the dragon’s left wing as if they were parchment, carving deep within the wing. Blood sprayed into the air in great arcs as the beast let out a guttural, tortured cry, its flight thrown into chaos as its body began to spiral and crash onto the ground.
‘That should incapacitate it fo—!’
Much to Archer's disbelief, the creature went right back up with the malevolent light in the dragon's eyes growing more wrathful. Its body moved forward, and the clawed hands crashed into the spot he was in a second ago. ‘He got even more mad? At this point, it's not even the effect of the Noble Phantasm that continues to linger, but he has entered a genuine state of berserk rage unable to discern ally from foe.’
Yet it became clear that Balmung had left it weakened with its haggard breath and wounds that became charred scales as if burned, the holy effect being a detriment to all Devil-kind, yet perhaps due to his nature as a dragon, Tannin managed to gain some resistance to it.
Tannin’s massive mouth let out a fierce roar, and the sheer wind pressure pushed Archer back, his body being pushed backwards by a powerful wind force created from the dragon’s thundering roar.
He was not that surprised that a direct hit from Balmung failed to incapacitate it in one bit. The short window of opportunity hadn’t exactly given the Heroic Spirit much time to charge the attack, and even then killing Tannin would not have been a likely or desirable outcome. Even so, the Blaze Meteor Dragon had proven to be far more resilient than he expected… He should have anticipated this though, as the title of Dragon King was noteworthy for a reason.
‘If killing him will take too much time, then I can exhaust him.’
His Reality Marble manifested more swords, Gram, Balmung, Arondight, Ascalon, and other dragon-slaying swords numbering in the dozens, each firing at the dragon aiming for vulnerable areas as Tannin continued to rush towards him. Unlike Clarent that managed to leave a wound on his scales but failed to go too deep, these blades proved far more effective due to their anti-dragon properties. Stabbing and getting stuck within each limb, stomach, tail and going so far as to shatter one of the Dragon King’s horns.
‘His scales are tough, aiming for the arms, tail, and legs is useless for it only serves to further enrage him. If he continues rampaging, the others will recover and I'll get overwhelmed again.’ Left with no choice, another sword landed in his hand. ‘Without the wings he should not be able to fly at least.’
It looked far different yet similar to Gram, white blade with a polished golden guard. No it was a blade he considered one of his very best that he received from a treasured individual. As the weapon began to glow with a golden sheen, he prepared whatever came what will. Yet as he was about to use it, the Heroic Spirit’s instincts screamed. He halted his strike and summoned several greatswords to his side, forming a wall just in time to block a golden figure whose crazed crimson eyes were locked onto him with fury.
Many wounds now lined his body. Clearly, he hadn’t endured the earlier assault unscathed.
"You're a persistent one," Archer muttered with frustration, now forced to split his focus. Tannin lunged with claws aimed to crush him, while Berserker kept up the pressure with relentless grabs.
"Argh!"
Staying alive against the combined attack of both Saber and Berserker earlier was hard enough… but doing so now when Saber was replaced by an angry Dragon, and fending them off with a single working arm eventually became overwhelming; it wasn’t long before Berserker cornered him. The dragon's tail came crashing down, sending him flying across the field. He hit the ground hard, then turned his head — his arm was gone, torn from his body and no longer hanging by even a thread.
Gripping one of the many nearby swords for support, he lifted his head and saw Caligula grinning in the distance, proudly holding the severed arm like a trophy. With a slow clench, the man crushed it into a bloody mess before discarding it without care.
A gruesome sight, one that left Archer feeling both grim and, strangely, amused.
“Was that supposed to intimidate me?”
He wanted to make a sarcastic comment but doubted it would even reach his opponent. Seeing the approaching figure with the rampaging dragon in the background, Archer understood what to do next. Without uttering a single word, another weapon appeared in hand.
Just like before he barraged both Berserker and Tannin with more swords, keeping them at bay and buying him enough time to charge the one in his hand. A spear belonging to someone he faced several times, always sighing whenever they encountered one another during each Grail War. A weapon to which he died several times in the past but also survived against it through several ways.
‘He is no longer in top shape, the wound left behind by Gae Bhuide continues to bleed and my previous attacks have weakened him to some extent. I can't take the chance that he will survive my next attack or else…’ More of his magical energy surged within the weapon, causing it to let out an eerie reddish glow. The spearhead was pointed downwards to his side while the end shaft held within his armpit. ‘Holding this with one hand is awkward, using that technique even more so. But… I should still be able to do it.’
“Hah…” Archer let out a deep breath and steadied his body. His body lowering and knees pushing forward with all his might, figure flickered as a few words left his mouth. “Pierce the heart… Gáe Bolg!”
Caligula saw the attack, but it was already too late, for the attack had already landed before he even reached the Servant's side. Cause and effect reversed, and the spearhead found its way within the emperor's chest and went past the already battered golden armor with relative ease. Their figure closed and Archer let out a bloody cough, eyes going downwards to see the spear having hit the center of the chest, its aim a bit off but still it landed.
But unfortunately, it seemed that Caligula opted to abandon any semblance of defense at the last second and instead threw his own attack.
Blood pooled beneath Archer's feet as past the spear shaft, he looked down at the golden vambrace upon the arm that had dug deep within his own guts.
Archer coughed more, finding breathing to be painful and standing a tall task. Thankfully the hand didn't go deep enough to crush his spine.
“…You… name.”
A faint whisper, no longer just screaming or speaking crazily, but instead a simple question that came out of the emperor's mouth. The first time he truly addressed the Servant of the Bow directly. Saying Archer or throwing a backhand remark would have been his preferred choice of words, for revealing one's name to an enemy was detrimental. But with Caligula… that no longer mattered.
“…Emiya,” he said quietly, grunting while examining his own body and grimacing at his current state. The Reality Marble around them grew more faint, almost as if it would disappear at any moment… Hopefully the others were far away from all of this as soon as they regained their minds.
“I will… remember… it.”
Caligula stirred, trying to pull back from the spear only for Archer to twist it back in. Cursing if the emperor managed to somehow get the effect of battle continuation for him to still move with so much strength left in him.
“Hm?”
A chill crept up his spine when he sensed another presence rush forward. And right before his eyes, he saw the figure of Tannin be sent flying before landing near them with a deep gash on his chest.
“I’ll fucking kill all of you! Don't underestimate me!”
An enraged roar came from nearby, a pillar of crimson lightning rising in the sky just like the one in Kuoh that had split a mountain. Mordred with her helmet gone, blood on her face and a single eye, glared at them and several swords having pierced her body. Just as he feared, she came back to her senses and became something else he needed to worry about. ‘If that hits… it should also completely take out Berserker and perhaps even the dragon. Sirzechs will prefer dealing with the news of a dead dragon rather than a dead sister… he'll keep her safe.’
Perhaps Saber coming back to her senses was the ideal scenario after all. Mordred's Master did not seem as an enemy of the Devils, a neutral party maybe.
Looking ahead, Archer closed his eyes and waited for the pillar to descend.
In the end, he was mostly satisfied with the outcome. He’d done well, all things considered.
…
“By the power of my Command Seal, I order you to live through whatever means necessary, Archer! You are not allowed to die!”
Out of nowhere, he heard his Master's voice shouting from the distance, eyes snapping open and seeing the redhead girl huffing next to the same black-haired woman who was thrown at his feet right before Saber arrived, now awake and standing beside Rias with a concerned expression. His Master had sunk to her knees with tears streaming down her face while holding out her hand in a desperate cry. The three marks of her Command Seals glowed brightly, with one of the lines then growing faint as it faded away almost entirely.
“You…” Archer was at a loss for words, but he had no opportunity to even say or think about the matter anymore, for the order had already embedded itself within his core. Power coursed through his body, as he dismissed the spear and summoned Kanshou in his hand slicing through the arm still buried in his guts.
“Hn!” Staggering backwards, he felt how the wound was no longer as debilitating as it should have been. The command itself was vague enough that some of it already started to heal him, and for that reason he swiftly tore the severed forearm free from his stomach. With the pillar of red lightning in the distance, his will spread across the entirety of the Reality Marble one last time.
An echo spread across the barren wasteland with each and every sword plunged into the ground extracting themselves before shifting in place such that they were aimed right at Saber’s Noble Phantasm.
“Clarent Blood Arthur!”
The massive tower of red Magical Energy and crimson lighting descended, as the recently re-acquired Clarent released its full power of its master’s wrath. To meet it, Archer sent forth an endless barrage of swords, with countless named and nameless Noble Phantasms being fired all at once against the wave of crimson destruction. The impact set the sky ablaze with a series of detonations spreading.
He did not stay idle, with Berserker still standing and looking as though he was about to somehow continue fighting, Archer raised his hand for a weapon to form that immediately halted the emperor in his tracks.
A jagged scarlet weapon that was both a work of art yet also too impractical in shape to truly be called a sword. Held by one of the late emperors of Rome and a weapon he used once against Riser Phenex during his Master’s first Rating Game.
“Ne… ro?” Caligula whispered upon catching sight of the weapon, leaving himself completely open.
Archer turned to stare right in front of him, his eyes meeting the red pupils of the black eyes who were staring at him as if shocked at the presence of the weapon itself once held by none other than his precious niece. Caligula looked upon the blade as if he could practically see the blonde girl herself standing in Archer's place holding it. The clarity that slowly made its way inside his mind disappeared with a twisted emotion reigning in.
“N-NERO!!!”
His scream became buried by the sound of the massive tower of red Magical Energy and crimson lighting that continued to push against the endless barrage of swords above them. Clarent Blood Arthur struggled, unable to contend against the combined might of the Noble Phantasms, until it started to break apart much to Mordred's frustration as her enraged shout echoed in the distance.
The black-haired woman and Rias were gone, thankfully. Both of them rushed away in the opposite direction as fast as they could go.
Archer summoned whatever was left in his reserves, further empowered by his Master’s Command Seal. Magical Energy hummed, surging within the blade and releasing a staggering amount of heat and fire that threatened to melt anything and everything in its surroundings. The surge of energy did not stop until sounds of cracks and breaking formed on the surface of the sword.
Until he pierced the very ground of his Reality Marble, at which point a circuit-like pattern spread across the entire area and connected with each and every sword that materialized within this space. He broke the sword and its powers flowed into all of his weapons as they started glowing an eerie red glow similar to Aestus Estus itself, with a fire soon erupting from them.
The ability of the Roman blade was shared and absorbed by each and every one of them, all simultaneously releasing a powerful wave of fire that spread around them, the flames twisting and turning with each weapon set ablaze around them and all Servants present along with the very sky were consumed by the flames — laying havoc.
{Break}
(Unknown amount of time later)
“Urgh… my head.”
Katerea woke up with a nasty headache, trying to make sense of what happened and also figure out why her body was aching so terribly. The last thing she recalled were the murderous black and eyes of that golden armored figure glaring at her with the intent to kill or even torture her until she could no longer resist. But then, then an arrow appeared out of nowhere and pierced the Servant, which freed her.
But then… then she did not recall anything else other than nightmarish howls of rage and a suffocating amount of dread. Bits and pieces of more memories started to return slowly, but also brought with them a killer headache.
“I… I survived?” she whispered to herself, unsure whether this was truly reality or but a dream.
She was never one to believe in there being something so ridiculous as an afterlife for Devil-kind.
So that really meant she was alive, and thus, Katerea was forced to open her eyes, dreading to find herself facing that golden armored monster or the other one that chased her before. Though instead, the first thing she came to witness was an odd boy with brown hair looking at her with lecherous eyes. He stared intensely at her exposed breasts with his mouth hung open, stunned to the point of not even noticing she was awake.
‘This lowly boy dares to…!’
No, she had to maintain her calm! This was an opportunity for her to leave this place and get away before—
“Don't even think about running away, Katerea.” A chipper voice reached her ears and even snapped the boy who was ogling her chest back to reality. Katerea panicked upon recognizing that voice, and it brought her almost as much dread as the Servant from before who nearly killed her. “It's okay now, Issei. Grayfia and I have already gathered everyone and you all will be heading back to Kuoh immediately after Asia and Grayfia are all done helping the wounded.”
Two figures walked inside the dimly lit area, the first one being a woman with silver hair dressed in a maid outfit whom Katerea instantly recognized, and she was holding Diodora Astaroth in her arms. Though the Astaroth heir’s condition made anyone unsure if he was even alive or not. Both of his arms were gone, his legs were badly broken, and barely any movement could be seen from his chest.
And next to her was a short woman with her hair in pigtails wearing a ridiculous outfit who made Katerea seethe with fury. She stepped forward to crouch down in front of the rightful heir to the Leviathan name. But concerningly, Serafall Leviathan no longer wore the bright smile on her face she was known for, and instead looked to be in a very bad mood.
“This is all your fault somehow… I just know it.”
2025-06-29 14:24:16 +0000 UTC
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Beta read by Paragon of Awesomeness and FabledL
2025-06-26 11:23:51 +0000 UTC
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Beta read by Paragon of Awesomeness, Shigiya and Gamercrusher55
Thank Lord Belly for the extra chapter 🙏
Next update is Toloveru.
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-???-
Ever since he’d kicked the bucket, taking on the toughest of the tough had become his whole damn purpose, no, his obsession.
Despite the number of enemies he had made, the regrets he carried, and the many moments he might have wanted to change — never once did he answer the call of the Grail to alter the past. To the Heroic Spirit, such a way… while not a coward’s way out, just never sits right with him.
He had accepted every scar and every failure as they were his to bear and learn from. With no greater desire left than to meet a worthy opponent, he chose to live on in the beyond, carrying that wish proudly like the crest on his back.
This thirst for worthy battle had followed him his entire life. He remembered the day the Conchobar mac Nessa had summoned him, speaking of an opponent that no warrior had bested. A youth, they said, one who defied various expectations with power that should not belong to someone his age. The words had caught his interest, not because it was the King’s order, but because it stirred something inside him.
The moment was as clear as day, how the boy had walked out before him, still so young yet holding himself with such presence. There were signs then, warnings even, signs that whispered of something familiar, something he should have seen.
Even Emer begged him not to answer the King's summons.
That woman, perhaps given the gift of foresight for all he knew, what with how true her words always tended to be.
Yet he ignored her.
Perhaps, just this once, the hunger for challenge had silenced the voice he normally trusted. Not just her, but also that gut feeling, always there, always right, had been smothered under the weight of anticipation.
"What’s your name and lineage?" he had asked. A question born from instinct, almost as a form of greeting between warriors to make their names known.
But he got no response, not that he minded; everyone’s desires differed, and so did their goals. Not all wished for fame; regardless, rumors had not lied. The boy was a natural with the spear, a prodigy in every sense that would even make his Shishou proud. He had speed nearly matching his own, a strength that could break stone, and movements that slithered like a serpent, dodging every thrust in advance as if seeing the future itself, every slash, answering with strikes of his own. The duel had been a blur. Sparks flew, and eventually, blood was drawn. Wounds opened along both their bodies. But not once did the boy show fear, not once did he flinch or lose himself to fear.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Cu felt that old fire again. His grin had spread freely, wild, and unrestrained, for he had found someone who could truly keep pace with him. Their roars filled the air, laughter, and fury clashing with the sound of steel. He had given himself over to the feeling, his spear dancing faster, his strikes hitting harder. Every movement became a blur of intent, more beast than man. But the boy never let up either, pushing past the limits of pain and exhaustion just to stay even.
But all good things eventually came to an end.
Bit by bit, the tide had to turn. One mistake. That was all it ever took. Whether it was arrogance, fatigue, or simply the dulled edge of a warrior who had been too long away from the land of shadows and had not gotten his ass kicked by that scary woman, Cu faltered. And the boy struck.
The spear found flesh. A small, sharp, piercing wound to the shoulder. Not fatal in the least, but close enough to shake the Hound of Ulster. That slip-up became the only thing the young warrior needed to change the tide of combat, pushing his opponent to a corner. His moves were clean, reminding him of Ferdiad to a certain extent.
With Cu’s eyes widening, every scrap of rationality gave way to pure lust for battle. Magical Energy surged through him, flooding his limbs, pouring into the spear, and releasing a wave of crimson.
No more holding back.
With full intent, he unleashed Gáe Bolg, the attack that struck without fail, pouring everything into it — the barbed weapon that pierced with death.
And the boy, brilliant as he was, had not been prepared for what came next. Before the attack had even fully reached him, a faint voice slipped into Cu’s ears like a whisper from across a great divide.
"She did not teach me that."
He blinked, the words not making sense at the moment, confusion flickering across his face. However, it was too late to stop and his spear struck the heart. The sound of the piercing blow echoed across the field but he just kept facing the boy with disbelief at first.
In the quiet that followed, when the thundering pulse of combat ebbed and the thrill drained from his limbs, Cu stepped closer. Rationality began to settle in where excitement once lived. His eyes fell to the young man’s chest, to the faint glint of gold circling his finger that he had given to Aife long ago.
Everything clicked.
It was then that everything fell apart.
The ring. He recognized it.
The adrenaline of the fight drained from him in an instant. What should’ve been a victory now felt like a gut punch. He looked down, his hands trembling, the warmth of battle replaced by a cold, sinking dread.
"Why didn’t you tell me?"
The words escaped him like a plea. He wasn’t sure who he was speaking to anymore.
The boy, despite the mortal wound blooming across his chest with no way of saving him anymore, gave him a soft smile, one lined with pain yet still proud.
"I wanted to impress you," he said. "I wanted you to acknowledge me… for my skill."
His son…
Connla.
He had chosen the name long ago, before leaving the land of shadows, before ever laying eyes on the child. He had departed without seeing the boy born, without being part of his life. And now here he was, lying at his feet, cut down by the very spear that should have protected him.
Sent on a journey with three cursed rules handed down by his mother. Bound by promises that sealed his fate.
Even as the light began to fade from Connla’s eyes, Cu knelt beside him, a weak smile formed across his face. In the fleeting moment they shared, he tried to give him something, anything, even if it was just the comfort of a name with all the warriors and his friends gathered around.
"This is my son," he said, barely able to keep his voice stable. Presenting them to Connla one by one and vice versa. "My blood, my kin… one of the strongest warriors I have faced in my life, if not the best."
He watched the boy go still, seeing the embers that now reminded him so much of his own, slowly die out.
He could not remember the last time he had felt this weak.
This… furious.
This disgusted at her… and with himself, for he was just as responsible for this sin.
"If you wanted me to regret, if this was your vengeance for leaving, I would have welcomed any knife, the flame, the curse. Anything. But why… why him? How could you set our son to such a fate, Aife?"
His voice cracked, not directed at anyone living, not meant for anyone who could ever answer. With molten rage streaming within his veins at the three rules imposed on Connla by his mother and her clear intentions. She wasn’t there. She wouldn’t hear it—but she had won.
There was no pride now. No honor. Just blood on his hands and silence in his arms.
He held his son close, soaked in the weight of his own failure, for a time he couldn’t measure.
{Break}
-Fujimi High-
With the sound of leaves rustling in the trees and a few distant gunshots echoing from the still-burning city, even this late at night, Cu's groggy eyes opened. Staring upward at the deep black sky littered with faint stars, his body resting on a makeshift bed placed at the top of the roof. Having chosen to sleep outside in the cold, unfortunately, keeping watch in case anything unexpected occurred. The irony of his role here was not lost on the man, but then again… it was for the best.
Some of the other students had taken similar measures, using what they could find to create crude bedding arrangements inside the gymnasium.
From his earlier visit, books lay scattered beneath them, flattened into uneven mattresses to keep their bodies away from the ground, while others had stacked their clothes into piles to soften the cold gym floor. A few had dragged out the pole vaulting landing club's mats and were curled up together in quiet clusters. None of it looked comfortable, but comfort wasn’t the goal. Rest, even a sliver of it, was a rare luxury during such moments.
Many still had no idea if their families were even alive. Some already assumed the worst and started mourning in despair, a few continued to hold onto hope and the rest just tried to keep themselves together.
Cu’s eyes wandered around, with a faint sigh, he pushed himself upright, shifting silently off the bed and taking a moment to massage his temples.
“I ain’t even a Servant anymore,” he muttered, voice low and coarse. “What’s the bloody point in rememberin’ shit like that?”
He spoke to no one but himself, his tone weighed down at the fragment from a life long gone but not forgotten. Regrets that would never truly disappear, memories that had not faded in the least. Even now, years and worlds away, the memory refused to let go.
It had been ages since that nightmare crept into his head, not that he thought it was because he was tired or anything like that—just his brain being a bastard and dragging up shit he’d rather leave buried.
“Feckin’ useless to mop around now,” he grunted, reaching up to brush his fingers through his hair. “No sense in lying here waiting for dawn, sleep won't be coming back anytime soon.”
There was no point trying to sleep again. He knew himself well enough to know that once that sort of memory woke him, it would take a while for him to just forget about it. The only remedy he could think of was walking it off with a bit of fresh air.
The tap of his boots against the rooftop echoed softly through the dark. As he reached the edge, leaning against the metal rails, he gazed downwards at the school’s main gates, his eyes landing on the twisted remains of Yoshito’s car, shoved against the entrance as a makeshift barricade. Most of its parts were gone or in places, they should not be, like the engine now stuffed inside the passenger seats to add more weight. Crude for sure, but it held the gates in place… better than nothing.
Not much could be done today.
The students were rattled beyond words, some crying and others vomiting from stress or from the mere sight of those undead — they needed time to adjust. Expecting them to do more than gather supplies already scattered throughout the school would be pointless. The cafeteria incident from this morning according to Rei already showed signs of trouble brewing with troublemakers getting ideas and taking advantage of those in weak spirits.
‘That Shido… putting all the food inside the gym storage room with Teshima holding the keys. Kinda obvious what he's planning to do, but I'm more surprised how barely anyone caught onto what is going on.’
Even the teachers were too occupied to notice it. Kyoko was more worried about him and calming those who would get panic attacks. That deadly airheaded nurse, on the other hand, seemed like she was a step ahead and already secured all the medical items and fully focused on taking care of Yoshito's and his family's wounds and making sure they were not infected.
The principal on the other hand lost all his authority and became a mute existence who just kept following his colleagues around.
As for the other teachers… they had already clearly allied themselves with the four-eyed guy. The scene almost made Cu chuckle, like watching a child play king and gather loyal subjects with ridiculous promises and kind words.
‘Best I keep him in line, killing is off the table, or that will backfire on me. The students already don't trust me that much, forcing order through fear will only bite me in the ass during the most inconvenient time. Better save that when the snake shows its fangs. But then again, I'm the only one with a proper weapon, that alone should tip the scales even a tiny bit on my side.’
Part of him was curious to see what trouble Shido was planning. While a snake in disguise, the guy could not compare to the likes of Kotomine and did not pose any threat to him. But lowering his guard around that man would be foolish and a mistake that even his Shishou would bash his head against a mountain for making.
All of this made him scratch at his chin and muttered, “Dammit… I need a bloody beer.”
Only that could take the edge off. He could already taste it in the back of his throat, the kind of drink that dulled the thoughts and settled his nerves. Too bad there wasn’t any at school. His own supply was locked away in his apartment, a place far from here. Really not worth the long trek if he was being honest.
He glanced down the street. “Let’s see… the nearest convenience store’s two blocks down, wait, no. That place went up in smoke this mornin’. So I’d have to go even further.”
“Then you’d be a bigger idiot to even try,” said an irritated voice beside him.
He turned, a smirk already forming as he spotted the familiar girl standing with her arms crossed. Saya had pink hair slightly messy, no glasses, and an expression that told him exactly what she thought of his plan. She stood there in silence, the moonlight catching the sharp line of her jaw.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Saya scoffed as her arms crossed beneath her rather large chest. "I’m honestly surprised anyone can even sleep through a night like this. The sky is practically on fire and half the city’s still screaming. Besides, I’d rather we have multiple eyes keeping watch than relying on a single eccentric transfer student who barely anyone knows and has only made friends with a handful of people at best. I should also be asking the question as to why you're not sleeping, even Saeko looked visibly tired after coming back."
“A bad dream I guess,” he said, not going into further details. “Want to hang out a bit? You clearly have a lot on your mind as well.”
“…Fine.”
"Thanks for keepin’ me company then," Cu replied, tone calm but laced with genuine appreciation. Though her prior words were harsh, there was no actual spite behind them, and her expression remained neutral. He gave her a quiet smile, one that barely lifted the corners of his lips, before his gaze turned again toward the blazing cityscape in the distance.
"Going back to our earlier talk, you're not seriously thinking of heading out again just to grab a damn pack of beer, are you? In fact, you shouldn't even be drinking those things at your age anyway!” Saya said with irritation.
"Does the law still apply when the city itself has ceased to exist, and what remains is nothin’ but scorched ruins and broken glass?" He shot back, one eyebrow raised. Much to his surprise, she didn’t stammer or backpedal. Instead, she doubled down.
"Laws were never just about the city or the government. They were also for the people in general. They're meant to keep us, or those who can't think with their brain, civil. Even if there are no police officers left to enforce them, as long as people believe in them, and feel their weight, they’ll still hold some power. Useful against people who can't be trusted to hold onto their own personal morals in the first place."
He blinked, momentarily caught off guard by how well she articulated her point. She wasn’t just spitting out rhetoric for the sake of it. She believed every word she said.
"Well I’ll be," he said, lips curling into a crooked grin. "There’s more to you than just a bonnie face and a short-stack body."
Her jaw dropped, a furious red blush of embarrassment filling her face. "Excuse you!?" she gasped, stepping back as her arms instinctively folded across her chest. Her stare sharpened, not realizing that her actions made her already prominent chest look even bigger. "That is literally sexual harassment!"
"I’m just being honest, lass. It’s a compliment, really," he said, shrugging with a look that suggested he meant no harm at all.
"You could have complimented me differently," she snapped. "The way you phrased it makes it sound like you thought I was some kind of airhead who’s only worth noticing because of her looks!"
"You're wrong," he said, and this time his voice held a more grounded tone that caught her attention for a bit before she ended up regretting after hearing his next words. "I thought you were just a hot-headed girl with a bonnie face and a body to match. Now I know you're also quite smart and wise.”
“Why you!”
He continued without paying any attention to her murderous face, “That was my first impression, and I won’t pretend otherwise. You have to admit, you didn’t exactly roll out the welcome mat for me when we first met."
"And you didn’t exactly come off as someone trustworthy," she countered with a huff. "You looked like some kind of delinquent the moment I laid eyes on you."
Cu chuckled, and his shoulders relaxed.
There was something oddly comforting in the way she kept butting her head against him. Kinda reminding him of his ma, fiery as ever, flinging a slipper straight at his head whenever he got cheeky — hopefully, the girl would not do the same thing to him.
Thinking about his parents, his mood slightly soured once more, who would have expected that he'd grow so attached to this world, to new parents, and to this new home. Despite everything, he was grateful.
"Let's set the whole beer stuff aside for a minute, I still need to go out for supplies. The food stockpiled in the cafeteria might look like a feast now, but give it three days with the number of mouths we have, and we’ll be scraping the bottom of every can. Maybe we stretch it to four if we start rationing, but that’ll just heighten stress and anxiety among the students. As for water, the faucet is still running and we also have an inventory of fresh water that will easily last a week. Still, better to keep our inventory stocked whenever the opportunity shows itself. Sitting still and hoping for the best won’t cut it."
Saya didn’t speak right away, simply walked up beside him and leaned against the cold metal railing, her arms crossed beneath her chest and her gaze fixed on the moonlit schoolyard.
"While I do admit resources should be our number one priority," she said at last, her voice cool and measured, "there’s one major flaw in your plan."
He didn’t interrupt. From the look on her face and the pause she gave, he already had a good idea of what she was going to say.
"Even if you find plenty of convenience stores around here and bring back all the canned food and snacks you can, it still won’t be enough to sustain everyone. Not for long, at least. Unless you can somehow get your hands on a large truck, fill it to the brim with supplies, and make the trip back without alerting any of the undead in the area that will keep swarming the place."
Saya lifted her hand and pointed toward the gates. They were still holding, for now, but beyond them lurked scattered figures with rotting flesh and hollow eyes.
"I counted at least twelve of them earlier. More showed up after your dramatic entrance, but these ones haven’t left. If you keep using the school bus for runs, going back and forth like clockwork, sooner or later there will be too many of them and something will go wrong. One mistake is all it takes. One of those things gets through, and everything we’ve built here collapses into chaos."
"I can always kill them," Cu replied calmly. Though his tone wasn’t dismissive though since her points were valid. "Even if a dozen made it through, I can take care of it. So can Saeko and even Rei, I'm not the sole protector here."
But she had made a point. The gates were holding for now, and even with the reinforcement he had carved using his runes, they wouldn’t last forever. He’d need more material, more time, and more hands if they wanted to make the walls truly secure. Not to mention most of the people here wanted to reunite with their loved ones, hoping that at least one of them survived.
Telling them everyone they knew died was both ignorant and generally a bad idea. He himself did not find the idea of staying holed up here that attractive.
"Yeah, we can’t stay locked up in here forever either," he added, scratching the back of his head. "Even if I could somehow fix everything from the inside, it wouldn't be enough."
"Exactly," Saya said with a firm nod. "It’s only a matter of time before we lose both power and access to drinkable water. This school, despite how lavish it looks, wasn’t built with survival in mind. There’s no emergency generator that runs on fuel — even having that around would just attract more of those creatures from the noise alone. The fact that we still have power at all means only one thing."
"That there are survivors," he finished for her, eyes narrowing. The idea wasn’t far-fetched. As much as he liked to think he and the others had made smart moves, he wasn’t arrogant enough to believe they were the only ones still breathing. Humans were frustratingly resilient, and where there was even the faintest chance of life, someone would claw their way toward it.
"We can go to my parents’ house," she said suddenly, catching him off guard.
He turned toward her, raising an eyebrow. "Your parents?"
The pink-haired girl nodded, looking in the distance, most likely towards where her home was located. "Yes. The Takagi estate is large enough to house this many students temporarily. If needed. My father has housed plenty of his men for training purposes amongst other reasons. We make do with a few frame beds and mattresses, it could work — better than sleeping on books and curtains. And both my mother and father have trained security personnel. If anyone’s still alive out there, it’s them. There’s no way they would have gone down in a mess like this."
Takagi. The name echoed in his mind for a moment before a vivid image snapped into place, a stern-faced man with a scowl so intense it could make even Archer seem tame in comparison. The memory of that encounter back at the shrine hadn’t left him, especially the sheer presence the man radiated.
"Well, would you look at that," Cu muttered with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "We got ourselves a princess, huh? The surprises never stop with you."
"Ah!" he exclaimed, grinning when Saya tried to hit his side only to stop midway. Taking a moment to breathe and push down that anger of hers.
"Don’t start getting cheeky with me," Saya warned, narrowing her eyes. "You can throw around that fake weird charm with Rei or Saeko all you like, but try that smart-ass attitude again with me and I’ll make you regret it."
“So you do find me charming! That's good to know.” He chuckled under his breath. The girl might have had her pride and her sharp tongue, but he could see it now. Beneath all that, she was someone who took every single life around her seriously, even if she pretended not to care.
‘Indeed, quite the firecracker,’ Cu thought with a wry grin.
"Alright then, so the good news is that we won't have to figure out how to live off this school for that long. Not needing to turn half the campus into farmland just to keep stomachs full," he said, arms crossed as he leaned back. "Bad news is, we'll have to move around several hundred students across the bloody town to your manor.”
He let out a quiet chuckle, the kind that carried more fatigue than amusement.
"I won’t lie to you, girl. This plan’s a fair bit riskier than me headin' out on a solo run to scavenge for tinned food and clean water. I suppose that's the kind of thing one must do when you have to save the lives of so many."
"Does that mean you won’t do it then?" Saya asked, arms folded and eyes narrowing.
"Nope. I will," he replied without hesitation. "But before we go rushing to load every student into the bus and march off like sheep, we’ll need to make a few preparations first. For that, you'll need to provide me with directions to your house and I can scout the routes we need to take and clear them out.”
Saya hummed, clearly not in disagreement but making no effort to hide her impatience.
"Whatever works, I'm all for it, just do it quickly before things start slipping out of your hands… but also don't push yourself. I don't want to deal with a resentful Rei in case you die."
A laugh escaped his mouth, “Hahahaha! It may be hard to imagine, but I am quite hard to kill, lass! Besides, I made a promise to Kyoko earlier on, and I'm not dying until I've accomplished that at least. If I were to die then it would either be of old age or at the hands of a worthy warrior.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You've been watching too many movies lately, ugh, you sound like an otaku. Still, I prefer you more than that person.” She grumbled, glancing at the gymnasium in the distance.
Cu followed her gaze and instantly understood. "Oh, him."
"Of course, him! I'm not as daft as the rest of them. It’s obvious the students are warming up to Shido, and he’s taking full advantage of that… you weren't there to listen to that obscenely fake speech of his. I don’t know what he’s scheming, but I don’t like it. I don’t trust him leading anyone, least of all me."
Seeing how she spoke about that particular teacher, part of him wondered if there was also some bad history between them. But he heard nothing about that from either Rei or Kyoko since Shido appeared to be well-received by most of the students except for Rei of course.
As if reading his thoughts, she added, “I met his father before… or rather my mother did. Slimy politician, the way Shido talked and conducted himself earlier reminded me a lot of that man.”
Ah, that made sense. She had a good intuition at least. He never met the father she spoke of, only seeing small appearances on the news from time to time and having no real opinion of him.
"So with you telling me all this, does that mean you just approved of me as the leader?" Cu asked with a crooked smile, tone teasing.
In response, she lifted her hand and gave him a firm middle finger, spun on her heel, and marched away without another word.
"Not going to keep me company tonight then?" he called after her. “I've been told that my body is quite warm and pleasant to hug.”
The sharp sound of a door slamming shut was answer enough.
With a shake of the head, Cu figured it best to return to bed. The cold air had done its work. His headache had dulled somewhat, the sour taste in his mouth had faded, and the pressure pressing against his skull had eased.
As he was making his way back, a faint noise reached his ears from the floor below. Curious, he went to check through the dim corridors, catching the faint clatter of movement and the low sound of a male voice talking to himself in the only lit classroom.
He approached quietly, glancing into one of the classrooms where a table had been turned into a workbench. Piles of assorted junk cluttered its surface: staples, wooden planks, duct tape, bits of wiring, and metal scraps. All the while a short and slightly overweight boy with shoulder-length hair tinkering with… something.
"Kohta?" Cu asked, stepping into the doorway.
“Ah!”
The other boy looked up, startled, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly as it hit a wooden shelf on the wall. “Ouch ouch ouch… O-Oh hey! I wa-was just… you know, looking around. Found some things in the club rooms and figured I’d try to make something useful."
Cu’s eyes swept over the makeshift workbench filled with an assortment of tools and bits of several materials. "And what exactly are you buildin’ this late at night?"
"Well, it struck me that besides your spear, we don’t really have any actual weapons," Kohta said, gesturing to him to approach the table which the Irishman did out of curiosity. "I mean, sure, we’ve got some baseball bats, sticks, bokkens, and hockey sticks, but they’re hardly reliable. So I thought, why not improvise? You know, like MacGyver!"
Before Cu could mention he had no clue who MacGyver was, Kohta spun around with surprising enthusiasm and thrust forward what looked like the unholy offspring of a nail gun and a failed science fair project.
"Check this out! I modified this nail gun I found in the supply closet," Kohta explained, eyes gleaming behind his glasses. "Not a real gun, obviously, but I reinforced the frame and cranked up the pressure mechanism. Added this grip from an old tennis racket and rigged up this sight using a bent paper clip and some wire. It's not pretty, but it's functional. Way more reliable than those cheap Lorcin L380s. Point blank? This baby will punch right through zombie skull, guaranteed!"
Cu stepped forward and took the prototype in hand, examining the strange contraption. It had a strange feel to it, covered in duct tape and planks of wood, but overall solid. He tilted it slightly, honestly a bit uncertain how to even judge it.
"Aye… it’s crude, but it’ll do in a pinch, I guess?"
Kohta grinned, pride flickering behind his glasses. "This is just the prototype. I’ve got a few other ideas I want to test once I get more parts."
Looking back and forth between the boy and the makeshift weapon in his hands, Cu was more than impressed.
"How did you even make this?" he asked, eyebrows raised in honest curiosity.
"It's nothing, really," Kohta replied, rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward smile. "Just picked up a few basic tricks from an American private military contractor in the States I went to over spring break. Give it a try, maybe you'll like it…?"
His tone was hopeful, clearly eager for Cu’s approval. The Heroic Spirit stood still for a moment, weighing the contraption in his hands before letting out a quiet hum and giving in with a shrug. Though guns were never his forte, he raised the weapon, aimed at the wooden board in the center of the room — now marked with a hastily drawn bull’s eye — and pulled the trigger.
A sharp hiss followed. The compressed air shot from the barrel, launching a nail that zipped clean across the classroom and struck dead center on the board. A respectable hit, but his grin slowly spread, mischief tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Wait… I’ve got a better idea. Follow me."
"Eh?" Kohta blinked, confused, but obeyed without protest.
They made their way through the quiet corridors, emerging into the moonlit courtyard. Cu led him toward the main gates, where the undead still clawed and shuffled, banging against the metal, mindless in their persistence.
"Here." Cu stopped and, with a casual toss, handed the nail gun back to Kohta.
"Whoa!" Kohta barely caught it, stumbling slightly. "What’s the plan?"
"You made this thing with the idea of takin’ down the dead, yeah?" He said, eyes fixed on the groaning silhouettes beyond the fence. "Then what’s the point of testin’ it on a bit o’ wood? That won't tell us how well it actually works against them. We’ve got proper targets right here. Go on. Try it."
"Me? Are you sure you don’t want to do it instead? I mean, you’re the one who's always charging out there. Would make more sense if you use it."
Cu shook his head and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. "I appreciate the thought, lad. But I’m better with a spear than any gun — I will not be able to properly use it. And like it or not, you’re all gonna have to learn how to fight for yourselves. This is your tool. See what it can do."
Despite those words, Kohta hesitated, but the words settled in his mind like a spark lighting dry tinder. He looked down at his creation again before a similar small grin to Cu’s made its way to his face. "Alright then… I’ll show you what this baby’s made of. The tip needs to be pressed down to set the safety off, which can make it a pain to use, but well, I'll manage.”
Poof!
The sound was more hiss than anything else, similar to before, a pressurized pop that barely echoed in the courtyard. Compared to a real gun, it was quiet. The nail zipped through the air and lodged cleanly into the forehead of one of the nearest zombies. It collapsed immediately, crumpling like a puppet with its strings cut.
Cu blinked, surprised at the precision. Back home, he’d only ever used hammers for his woodworking projects when dealing with nails, having never used a nail gun. This was something else entirely.
Poof!
Poof!
Poof!
More shots followed, and each one was fired with a similar accuracy to the last one. Every nail buried itself between the eyes of its target or the forehead. In a matter of seconds, half the undead crowd had dropped like dominoes, motionless on the ground. Only one shot missed so far, even then it jammed itself into the throat of an undead with blood gushing from it.
"Whoa," Cu murmured, watching with raised brows.
He had assumed Kohta was just the clever type, shy, a bit nerdy, and good with tools. But this level of accuracy…
"You’ve done this before," Cu said, watching him with a knowing glint in his eye. "There’s absolutely no chance this is your first time unless you're some kind of fucking prodigy. Which, to be fair, would make perfect sense at this rate."
"I did have some training," Kohta replied, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. "I did more than tinkering with tools with Blackwater USA. I enrolled there for a month and learned to handle firearms, among several things. It was actually a lot of fun, and I picked up quite a bit! Never thought I’d use them like this, though."
"That’s amazin'," Cu said with genuine enthusiasm, giving Kohta’s shoulder a hearty pat. "You're definitely the kind of lad I’d like to have around. Someone who can help keep things steady. Should’ve told me this sooner. I’d have scouted around town to gather materials for you, help build more of those."
"Haha, I wanted to," the boy admitted. "But I was also a little overwhelmed by everything, y'know? Wait… does that mean you actually want me to make more? Like, to hand them out to the other students?"
"Are you mad?" Cu shot him a wide-eyed stare. "Half of those folk in there can barely wrap their heads around what's happenin' or keep themselves together, let alone hold a weapon without accidentally shooting someone in the back or shooting themselves in the foot. Give them something like that and I promise you, they’ll let fear take over and start shooting anything that moves, assuming they can even point it the right way. And do you even have enough nails for the whole bunch? Think about it. It’d be like givin’ a loaded pistol to a toddler, and to top it off you’re tryin’ to figure out how many bullets each little shit should get."
Kohta winced, clearly disturbed by the image. "Yeah… yeah, I see your point. And you're right… Some of those people will definitely use it for…stupid reasons." A hint of vitriol escaped his lips, one that Cu noticed immediately and figured that he was most likely thinking of those who bullied him.
"But that doesn’t mean there aren’t a few people I do trust with one," Cu continued, his voice quieter. "So let’s keep this between us. If you can, make one or two more in secret. If you run short on materials, let me know. I’ll see what I can scavenge when I head out again."
"Will I… do you want me to come along?" Kohta asked, his tone uncertain but not hesitant.
"Do you want to?" Cu asked back, his brows raising slightly. "I won’t lie, lad. It's not pretty out there. Blood, death, and the smell of rot in the air. It's grim, and it will get worse long before it gets easier. I won’t force you into it. Are you thinking’ of finding your parents?"
"No. They’re not in town right now. They left on a short trip to America, actually. If they’re still near the camp where I trained, they’re probably safe… assuming the virus hasn’t spread that far. And, well, it feels unfair makin’ you handle everything alone. I heard your chat with Takagi, so yeah, I want to help in any way I can."
"You're a good man, Kohta," The former Servant of the Lance said with a nod of approval.
"Hehehe… D-Don’t mention it."
"Haha, are you blushin’?" Cu grinned. “Not used to compliments or something?”
"Can’t help it. Not used to being praised like that."
"It’s not for nothin'," he said sincerely. "Wanting to face this madness and help me out, takes guts. And the fact you can still smile in times like this shows you’ve got a strong head on your shoulders. Honestly, how the hell did someone like you end up bullied for so long?"
Kohta winced at that remark. "To be fair, I only went to military training last summer. They didn’t really teach me hand-to-hand combat, just basic self-defense. I was a lot more interested in guns, which the guy training me was all too happy to indulge. I… I tried to stand my ground at first, but it's hard doing so when faced with more than a single guy. Man… those movies make it look so easy!"
Cu hummed in agreement, remembering the state of the boy the first time he met him locked in a closet. Then, an idea came to mind. "So… Do you want me to teach you?"
That took Kohta by surprise, turning his head around and looking at him with confusion. “You know CQC?”
"If by that you mean knowing how to not get your ass handed by several people then yes. Spent a large part of my life trying to survive Shishou's assaults, so I learned a thing or two. In an apocalypse, relying on a gun every time’s goin’ to get you killed sooner or later. There’ll come a moment when you’ve got nothin’ on hand but what nature gave you. That’s when grit matters more than firepower. And in those kinds o’ situations nothing beats good old-fashioned hard work and your preferred melee weapon."
"I-I guess you're right," Kohta said, taking a deep breath. “Then sure, I want to learn!”
“That's the spirit! Now… still have any nails left?”
The two of them stayed where they were, talking and occasionally firing at any of the undead that got too close to the school gates. Cu even took a turn with Kohta’s weapon, practicing his aim and even getting tips in return on how to properly handle the weapon. It was, oddly enough, fun. Hours passed without either of them noticing, and whatever frustration had been lingering in Cu’s mind from earlier had vanished entirely. He felt lighter and strangely content.
{Break}
(Next morning)
The morning came soon enough, the outside carnage having somewhat silenced with the stench of burned materials and acrid fumes having somewhat subsided.
With the students waking up feeling both hungry and thirsty, the teachers tasked themselves with distributing provisions. Shizuka went around doing regular checkups on those who felt off and to monitor for any unexpected changes. Currently checking on Yoshito who had been the most injured out of everyone present. While Kyoko kept looking around — trying to find someone.
"Ah, Tanuichi-san, Kawamoto-san, have you two seen Seth?" Kyoko called out as soon as she spotted the two girls across. Having seen the way they acted around the boy — closer than most at least — and hoped they might know where he had gone off to. Both the redhead and the blue-haired girl were in the middle of distributing food rations when they turned their heads to look at her.
"I went up to the rooftop to check on him, but he’s not there," Kyoko continued, her tone sharpened by frustration and the faintest trace of worry. "That stubborn boy…I told him not to sleep out in the open like that. It’s too cold, and he’ll catch a fever if he’s not careful. Now he’s vanished, and I can’t find him anywhere inside either."
A part of her feared the worst, that he had gone back outside without telling anyone, armed with that ridiculous spear he’d gotten from that criminal. She’d seen the glint in his eyes the day before, the kind of confidence that made her uneasy. As if having that weapon gave him the right to face danger alone.
No, he had the same look even without that weapon which was worse!
“No, we were just going to ask you that ourselves…” Fumiko said, her answer making the brunette sigh.
"It’s bad enough that the military hasn’t shown up yet to rescue the remaining survivors," she added, her voice lowering slightly, "but now even the students are beginning to lose hope. Some of them don’t even believe they’ll get out of here alive, let alone be reunited with their families."
"You’re being too harsh on yourself, teacher," Fumiko continued gently. Putting on a bright smile for her. "From what I’ve heard from Cu, the situation outside is far worse than anything we’ve had to deal with here. The fact that we’re still alive, all of us, that’s already a miracle. I’m sure there are a lot of people who would’ve traded places with us without a second thought."
Momo nodded in agreement beside her, eyes bright. "Besides, we’re in good hands, aren’t we? Did you see that spear of his? It’s incredible. With that thing, he can take down any zombie that comes our way!"
"Do not entertain such a reckless idea, young lady!" Kyoko snapped, her face going pale as the mere suggestion of Cu going out alone again to face those… things made her stomach twist. "I understand he’s well-trained in sojutsu, but that doesn’t mean he should be burdened with protecting everyone by himself. That responsibility shouldn’t fall on him, or anyone else just because they can hold a weapon. It should be our duty as adults to carry that weight."
The two girls exchanged a look, eyebrows raised. This time it was Fumiko who spoke, her tone more hesitant, though not disrespectful.
"Um… Kyoko-sensei, I don’t want to be rude, but… can you even kill one of those things?"
The question hit harder than she expected. Her mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. She crossed her arms, holding onto herself as though trying to shield her thoughts from the truth. Her arms trembled faintly.
She remembered what she saw the last time she got close to the school gates, those pale, sagging faces with eyes that stared without seeing, and that awful smell of death clinging to their rotting skin like a suffocating fog. She hadn’t even tried to fight. She couldn’t. The thought of getting near one, of striking it down, made her stomach turn.
"I… I can’t just stay here and do nothing," she whispered, her voice breaking just a little, barely audible.
"But you are doing something, Sensei."
The voice came from behind, prompting the nurse to turn her head as Igou approached, with Takashi beside him. The former looked visibly worse for wear, the skin beneath his eyes darkened by sleep deprivation. Saeko arrived a second later, though she looked much better than everyone with her pristine looks.
"Keeping the students calm is just as important as everything else. Seth can’t exactly help us if everyone’s panicking, so you’re actually doing him a huge favor by maintaining order. Oh, and don’t mind my appearance," Igou added, giving a tired grin. "Couldn’t get a proper night’s sleep with Rei bugging us to keep watch on Shido."
He lazily gestured across the gymnasium where the man in question stood, surrounded by students from the track club. Shido spoke to them with all the pleasant charm of a practiced politician, even managing to win over some of the teachers with a few laughs echoing. Teshima was among them as well.
The most eye-catching sight was of Miku Yukki hanging around the bespectacled teacher with her loosely worn uniform showing a large amount of cleavage as she practically clung to Shido's arm looking at him with a face that made several boys feel jealous.
On the opposite end of the room, Rei sat rigidly with bloodshot eyes, her entire posture bristling like a wolf stalking prey. Her gaze never once left the man.
"She’s been like that for hours," Igou went on. "I don’t think she even slept a wink all night."
"I tried to tell her nothing’s going to happen and that we’d let her know if anything did, but she just wouldn’t listen," Takashi muttered, yawning as he glanced around the room. "Speaking of which, where’s Takag—"
"I'm here."
The sudden voice made them all jump slightly. Takagi stood before them with her usual aloof expression, a large map held under one arm and her phone pressed against her cheek. Walking behind her was Cu, waving at them with a faint grin.
"Are you heading out again today?" Saeko asked, stepping past Saya without so much as a glance, which caused the pink-haired girl to twitch in annoyance at being brushed aside.
"Yep. Our little princess here gave me a decent idea that might actually help the people in here."
"I said to stop calling me that!" The pink-haired girl snapped, glaring up at him.
"You're not exactly making it easy with that attitude of yours," he replied dryly. Their bickering was short-lived before he turned back toward Saeko, his tone shifting to something more serious. "Anyway, we agreed that staying holed up here forever isn't an option."
"I agree," she answered firmly without hesitation. "At best, you're just buying time. I was about to talk to you about the same thing, it's good that you also reached this conclusion. I take it she told you about a more secure location? Somewhere we can move the students to?"
"Spot on," Cu said, then glanced around, noticing a familiar absence. His eyes quickly found Rei still planted in place, glaring daggers at Shido. "So she’s still watching him. Did she sleep at all?"
"Just compare her face to ours and you’ll know the answer," Igou said with a snort. "I swear, if someone handed her a knife right now, she’d march over and stab him without a second thought."
"Obviously," Momo chimed in, arms folded. "Do you not remember what almost happened yesterday? He’s over there smiling and chatting with the same people who were mocking Rei and spreading lies about you being dead. Then they all went completely silent once you came back. Even I didn’t feel safe sleeping with them nearby. Fumiko even had a nightmare that one of them tried to force himself on her."
"That wasn’t a nightmare," Fumiko said flatly, her tone dry. "You were… g-groping my breasts in your sleep… again."
The bespectacled girl’s comment that the brunette was acting like a serial groper in her sleep was promptly ignored by Momo, who carried on without missing a beat.
"In any case," Cu said, stepping forward, "I’m going out today. Hopefully, we can get a handle on this before things get worse. But first, I need to address everyone."
Without waiting for a reply, he strode toward the center of the gymnasium and clapped his hands together sharply, the echo bouncing across the walls and drawing the attention of nearly everyone present.
"Alright, everyone gathers here! If anyone’s still asleep, get them up, it’s already seven in the morning! Daylight is precious and we should be using every bit of it efficiently!”
The crowd stirred with mixed reactions. Some blinked away the remnants of sleep, rising from their makeshift bedding. Curiosity and hope flickered on the faces of a few, especially Fumiko, Momo, and the students who were closest. Others wore unreadable expressions, more neutral and cautious. Yet another minority remained visibly displeased, including a few of the teachers who seemed uncertain about him being the one standing at the podium like this.
But a few still continued to ignore him which amused the Irishman when he realized most of them just happened to be on the track team. ‘Should I just scare them a bit?’
Before he came to the decision to bring out the spear, a familiar hulking figure rushed onto the stage. He jumped next to the podium top bare-chested and shouted at the top of his lungs. “EVERYONE FUCKING LISTEN!”
Yoshito’s voice was basically as loud as a megaphone, even making Cu’s ears ring a bit. Thankfully, the pain was worth it as now everyone's eyes were on him.
"Good, thanks for the help, Yoshito. I hope you all got a good night’s sleep and that your heads are clear," Cu continued, his voice firm but composed. "Because from here on, things are going to get tougher. I’ll be direct. Our next course of action is simple: we all need to find a way out of here, and we need to do it fast before our supplies run dry.”
That immediately made several murmurs rise within the group of students who were not sure how to feel about that.
“I know it sounds scary to go out there where it's filled with those nasty undead. But if things go well enough, you won't actually be moving by foot, but instead with the school buses.” He gestured Saya to come forth which she did, placing her hands on her hips.
“We'll be going to my family's place. The Takagi estate is just as big, if not bigger than the whole school itself. On top of that, we have several emergency power generators and even a water filtration system in case of an emergency, and emergency rations to match. Between the supplies and security, it will be far safer and more habitable there. Through that, we should also be able to contact the outside world for help to come evacuate us, and hopefully get everyone in touch with your loved ones.” Just like him, she went straight to the point and spoke her words as clearly as possible for all to hear. Some of the students looked convinced, but others had a different expression.
“Collins, Takagi,” both of their heads turned to see Shido walk along the podium. With Miku reluctantly letting go of his arm while throwing the man a flirtatious look, the latter just smiled but gave no response to her actions. “While it is commendable you two are thinking up solutions for us — both of you are overlooking some major issues that make these ideas unfeasible.”
“What?” Saya frowned, about to argue, but stopped when Cu tapped her shoulders—gesturing to her to let him continue speaking. Not exactly happy about it, she still followed them rather begrudgingly.
Shido paid no mind to that and continued. “I may have misunderstood things, so please forgive me for that. But from the sound of it, you're making it sound like we will be out of food tomorrow, which is not the case. Teshima here has kept an inventory; he can attest to my words. As long as we keep rationing it, we have at least a week before needing to find a solution. So there is no need to move things along so quickly.”
“Neither of us made any mention of it ending tomorrow. But sure as hell don't have enough for a whole week.” Cu replied calmly.
"But that's quite the dramatic interpretation of what we said," Shido replied with a practiced smile, adjusting his glasses slightly. "In these uncertain times, clarity is essential, we can't afford misunderstandings that might cause panic." He shook his head with an air of paternal concern. "Please don't mistake my caution for opposition. I want nothing more than to reach somewhere secure where basic necessities aren't a constant worry. But my primary concern remains the safety of every student under our care. Rushing into danger without proper preparation could cost lives."
His arms opened, looking at the people in front of them. This time, plenty of students and teachers agreed with him and even thanked him with a smile on their faces.
“Transporting several hundred people at once is risky. We cannot be sure of the state of the roads, let alone if our place of destination is still a sa—”
“Just say what you really want, Shido.” Cu cut him off, starting to feel his patience wearing thin. This over-the-top speech made him remember a certain fake priest which left a nasty taste in his mouth. “Let's be honest and just come out with what we truly mean.”
Shido's smile died down ever so slightly as his eyes opened with both of them gazing at one another. A moment of silence passed between them till the teacher spoke with a deeper voice almost. “I believe you should let us adults handle this matter, Seth.”
“…”
“You are making decisions on a whim without discussing it with us first. Doing so blindly will only invite further trouble on our way, while I admire your courage — it's better to tread carefully.” The black-haired man explained. “You are still a student from a foreign country. There are many things you may not know about this city, unlike us. And putting yourself in danger just because you want to play hero is not an action I can accept. It only takes a single mistake to endanger everyone's lives.”
More murmurs spread across the room, with some agreeing with Shido while others continued to keep their silence.
Rei, who had silently watched the scene, realized how similar this felt compared to before. Shido took the same approach and gained more favors from the students who were slowly leaning on his side the longer this argument went on.
"Especially when you're wielding that weapon from who-knows-where," Shido continued, his voice taking on a performative concern. "Several students have expressed their discomfort with it. For everyone's safety, I believe someone with proper authority should be the one to—ugh!" His speech cut short as the crimson spear materialized in Cu's hand with startling speed, slicing through the air mere centimeters from Shido's face. The gymnasium fell silent. A thin line of blood appeared on the teacher's cheek, a perfect shallow cut that beaded red. Cu held his position, eyes cold and unblinking as he stared at the man, his expression betraying nothing.
“I don't know what exactly you're trying to pull off here, nor do I really care, honestly. But you actually want to take this away from me? Now you’re just being an idiot.” He shook the spear, swirling it around until the pointed butt of the shaft tapped Shido on the chest. The move startled the man enough to make him stumble backward.
“I'll say it now and not a second time. Only way you're getting this weapon from me is if you beat me and earn it. Honestly, the only person I'll give away the spear to is someone who could use it better than myself. This will be my first and last warning to you, don't try anything funny. Don't think I haven't noticed your actions from yesterday just because Rei was giving me a welcome back smooch.”
He then turned his attention to the others.
“I'll be heading outside again. This time, make sure the path to the Takagi estate is safe and clear up any undead creatures on the way. Don't get too comfortable staying here, we're on the clock, and the faster we get somewhere safer, the faster you all can focus on finding your families. If anyone is interested in risking their asses by going outside for the day, then come with me.”
He said nothing else before jumping off the podium and walking away outside, Saeko following him along with Rei, who was blushing at being reminded of what she did yesterday, Igou, and the rest with several different emotions on their faces.
“He's going to try something new, just look at him,” Rei said with a worried face, with Saeko agreeing.
“Pretty sure the track team is planning to kill you after cutting that guy's face,” Igou added, holding a bat he kept with him since yesterday. Takashi was holding something similar as well. “Even some of the teachers are glaring at you. Shido will definitely not just sit this one down.”
Their responses made an almost feral grin appear on Cu’s face.
“I know,” he said with a grin. “I'm hoping he does something really stupid. Gives me a good excuse to get rid of him.”
2025-06-21 12:30:04 +0000 UTC
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Aye, been a while.
So this scene is from when Shirou first encountered Caster and saved Bazett. Bringing her to his house and looking after her.
Artist is: ArtofRaven (https://x.com/AimableManahira?s=09)
Same one who did the Steel Eyed Faker one.
File download: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1UhKkjatt96GBYfyyLxBgBDW1D4oHY1CH
2025-06-18 12:13:48 +0000 UTC
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Beta read by Shigiya, Gamercrusher55, Paragon o
2025-06-18 11:53:19 +0000 UTC
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A small lime scene of what happened behind the door in chapter 73. Couldn't add it last time due to time constraints, so I'm posting this here as a mini bonus chapter.
Still trying to figure out how and where I'll add this scene in chapter 73 without it being confusing... Probably gonna just add it at the bottom.
HUGE thanks to Shigiya for making this possible.
Gonna post chapter 74 in a few seconds/minute.
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(Earlier)
(Earlier)
"Get in here," Maia whispered, yanking Archer by the wrist.
The door clicked shut behind them as he steadied himself as Maia released her grip, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. The changing room was surprisingly spacious, with a plush chair in the corner and a small table where a bottle of wine sat uncorked. Despite that man's personality… at least he had good taste with the overall decor of the place.
"What exactly are you doing?" he asked, maintaining his composure despite the sight before him.
The redheaded Princess Knight stood there in nothing but red laced string panties, sheer red stockings clinging to her thighs, held up by delicate garter belts. Of course, the woman was still not wearing a bra. The skimpy undergarments hugged her curves in ways that left little to the imagination, though she seemed displeased as she adjusted one of the garters that dug into her flesh.
"This is your fault," she accused, glaring at him while gesturing to where the fabric strained slightly against her hips. "All that delicious cooking you've been feeding me has made me gain weight. I can barely fit into my usual size anymore."
The Counter Guardian crossed his arms, refusing to be baited. "I fail to see how my culinary skills are to blame for your current predicament. If anything, it's your fault for having no self control in the first place."
"Don't play innocent," she retorted, turning to examine herself in the mirror. "Before you came along with your fancy recipes, perfect seasoning and handsome smug face, I could slip into anything. Now look at me!”
Despite her complaints, the very slight additional curves that she was lamenting about did very little diminish her beauty. The slight snugness of the garments against her skin didn't detract from her appeal, quite the opposite.
And it wasn't not like her job as a mercenary won’t get rid of that extra weight in time.
"If you're fishing for compliments, you should know that's not my style," Archer said, though his eyes betrayed him with a quick sweep of her figure.
Maia caught his glance in the mirror and smirked. "I don't need compliments. I need you to help me decide if this is worth buying for us to use later." She reached for the wine bottle. "Lan always leaves refreshments for his special customers. Want some?"
"I'd rather keep a clear head," he replied, watching as she poured herself a glass. "And you should too, considering our situation. I don't trust that man, his intentions towards you are as clear as day… surely you're not that blind."
“The girl waved her hand, “He's a pervert but he's not that stupid to make such a mistake. Even if he tries something, I'll just beat him up.” She downed the bottle, guzzling down half of it like it was ale. "It’s a prissy drink, but it’s pretty good. Sure you don't want to try?"
The unusually strong stench of alcohol alone made his nose burn from a distance, "Positive. Now, if there's nothing else, I should step outside before your associate gets the wrong idea."
Maia stepped closer, the scent of wine on her breath mingling with her perfume that tickled his nose. "Oh, there's definitely something else. I need to know if these look good enough to be worth the gold. Turn around."
“Seriously?”
“Come on! It's just a few seconds.”
Reluctantly, he complied, hearing the rustling of fabric behind him.
"You can look now," she said after a moment.
He turned to find her in a different ensemble—this one even more revealing than the last. A corset-like piece that pushed her breasts up, hugged her body while leaving her nipples exposed, the bright pink nubs as stiff, her bottom half barely covered with a high-hip T-back thong that hugged itself snugly against her lower region.
For what felt like the hundredth time, he had to wonder how these clothes exist in this time period. No different to a swimsuit or a thing that belonged in a fetish play… but then again, such arguments could also be made with several Heroic Spirits he met.
"This is ridiculous," Archer muttered, keeping his gaze on her eyes. "You don't need my opinion on… that."
"Come on, don't be such a prude," Maia teased, taking another sip of wine. The alcohol was clearly starting to affect her, a rosy flush spreading across her cheeks. "I value your input. Besides, you've seen me wearing less."
That was true, but the circumstances had been different then.
"The quality looks fine," he said tersely. "You should get dressed."
"Fine? That’s it?" She pouted, then grinned, closing the distance between them. Her arms slid around his neck, her body pressing against his with deliberate ease. "I was hoping for a bit more... enthusiasm. Maybe something like, ‘Damn, Maia, you look good enough to eat’ or even a nice, ‘Turn around and let me see if that thong’s as flimsy as it looks’ before taking me atop every surface of this room. Come on, Emiya, you’re gonna make me think you don’t appreciate the view~"
She teased him by calling his name.
He noticed the change in Maia's demeanor immediately. Her face had grown increasingly flushed, a deep crimson spreading across her cheeks. As she pressed herself against him, he felt her bare nipples, hard as diamonds, grazing his chest through his shirt. Her breathing had become heavier, each exhale warm against his neck.
His eyes narrowed, darting to the wine bottle on the small table. "Maia, is that wine spiked with something?"
She shook her head, her red hair swaying with the movement. "Already checked before I took a sip. It's just regular wine, I promise. I'm not that careless." Her fingers traced patterns on his shoulder before sliding to his chest, her touch deliberate. "I know what you're thinking, but it's not that."
"Then why are you acting like this?" he asked, placing his hands on her shoulders to create some distance between them.
Maia looked up at him, her eyes hazy but determined. "Because I want you. Is it so hard for you to believe that I’m just horny because you're around? With all of the crazy shit that has been happening around us, despite all the times we’ve seen each other we hadn’t had a chance to fuck each other’s brains out since you left me at Geofu." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I want to feel your hands running down my body as you ram that big, hot, cock into me~ So what do you say? Wanna blow some steam off~?
"No," Archer replied flatly, his expression deadpan as he stared down at her.
"Come on! Why do you have to tease me like this?" Maia whined, pressing her nearly naked body against him more insistently, rubbing her breasts against his chest, hard nipples poking through his clothes. Her lips found his neck, trailing hot kisses up his jawline while her hand boldly slid down between them to cup his groin through his pants, palm rubbing insistently against it, trying to get a reaction from the Counter Guardian. "Don't act like you don't want this too, big guy. You got to be packing a lot of pent-up frustration down here since we last did it~"
Archer let out an annoyed sigh as she continued her assault, peppering his face with kisses that grew increasingly needy. The heat of her palm through his clothing was becoming difficult to ignore, especially as her fingers began to massage him with practiced skill of some that knows how to get some going.
"Fine," he said firmly, grasping her wrists in one swift motion. Before she could protest, he spun her around and pressed her against the wall, his body pinning hers from behind. "If we're doing this, we're doing it my way and quickly."
A shiver ran through Maia's body as his breath tickled her ear and how he was taking control. "Now that's more like it, big guy. Ready to fuck me up." she purred, arching her back to press her rear against him.
"Yeah. No. I’m not going to be doing that here," Archer growled, ignoring the woman’s constant teasing. Even more certain that there was something in that wine, while the girl was quite bold… she never went this far in such a scenario.
His free hand came down hard on her ass, the sharp smack echoing in the small changing room. Maia's body jerked forward, a loud moan escaping her lips as pleasure rippled through her.
"Keep still," he commanded, landing another firm slap on her other cheek.
"Make me," she challenged breathlessly, her skin flushing red where his hand had connected.
Archer gripped her hips, holding her in place as he moved his hands upward, sliding them around to cup her breasts through the corset. The material was thin enough that he could feel her hardened nipples pressing against his palms. He squeezed the soft mounds firmly, making her gasp.
Finding the stiff peaks with his fingers, he began to roll and tug at them through the fabric, applying just enough pressure to walk the line between pleasure and pain. Maia's body trembled against him, her breathing growing ragged as he continued his ministrations.
"Ah~!" Maia moaned loudly, unable to contain herself as he pinched particularly hard as he nibbled her ear.
"Maia-san!?" Lan's voice came from the other side of the door, accompanied by a hesitant knock.
Maia bit her lip, trying to suppress another moan as Archer continued toying with her sensitive nipples, refusing to relent despite the interruption. Her eyes glittered with mischief, planning to push the envelope.
"I-It's nothing! He's just helping me dress! Don't pull so hard~!" she called back, her voice deliberately breathy. The grin on her face made it clear she was enjoying this dangerous game.
Archer leaned in close to her ear. "You're playing with fire," he whispered, giving her nipple another firm tug that made her knees shake and claw against the wall.
"Maybe I like getting burned," she whispered back, grinding her ass against his hardening length. Looking upwards and pulling his head, her tongue invading his mouth with hunger.
Archer hummed at that, and moved one hand to her pussy, moving the flimsy wet thong out of the way, before shoving several digits into her soak folds. Maia's moans were muffled thanks to Archer's other hand quickly moving to her mouth. Maia could only let him continue to play with her body, before he shoved some of his fingers in her mouth, the red head eagerly sucking on them. Maia moaned, words muffled by her still sucking on his fingers, sucking and slurping them.
Her desperate moans vibrated around his fingers as she sucked them hungrily, her eyes pleading with him as she ground her hips back against his hand. She released his fingers with a wet pop, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder.
"Ah! Ah! Ah! Mmm~ Please," she begged, her voice a hoarse whisper between slurps as she returned to sucking his digits, "just Ah! fuck me already." Her words came out garbled and needy as she writhed against him.
Archer shook his head firmly, though his own desire strained painfully against his trousers.
"Not here," he said with finality, his voice low but unyielding. The thin walls and Lan's obvious eavesdropping made this far from ideal. He wouldn't give that man the satisfaction of hearing them. "This will have to do for now."
Frustrated but unwilling to lose what pleasure she was getting, Maia whimpered and pushed back harder against his hand. Archer responded by curling his fingers inside her, finding that spot that made her thighs tremble. He worked his fingers with practiced precision, his thumb circling her clit as his other hand continued teasing her nipples.
"You're making this too difficult," he whispered against her ear, feeling her body shudder as his fingers continued their rhythm inside her. The wetness coating his digits told him everything he needed to know about how turned on she is right now.
Maia whimpered around his fingers, her tongue swirling between them as she sucked harder, mimicking actions that made her intentions perfectly clear what else she wanted to do, but it did nothing to change his mind. When he finally withdrew them from her mouth, a thin strand of saliva connected them to her lips.
"Pleeeeeaaaaaassssssseeee," she slurred out, her voice barely audible. "I Ah! need you inside meeeeee. Or let me Mmm~ at least suck you off. I promise Ah! To do a Ah! Good job!"
"Not here," he replied firmly, though his own breathing had grown heavier. "This isn't the time or place. This is just to help you calm down."
Outside, they could hear Lan pacing nervously, occasionally pressing against the door. The man's desperation was almost palpable at how much he wanted to peek or be in Archer’s place. The guy was an open book to both of them.
Lan knocked on the door again, more insistently this time.
"Maia-san, is everything okay!?" His voice cracked through the door.
"J-Just trying on the other c-clothes!" Maia bit back a moan as her inner walls clenched around Archer's fingers when they hit just the right spot.
"I only handed you one piece of clothing!" Lan protested like a squealing pig, completely oblivious to the fact she'd grabbed more while he wasn't looking.
"Shut up, Lan! Your voice is ruining the mood!" Maia snapped, her breath hitching as Archer's thumb circled her clit with deliberate pressure. She pressed her forehead against the wall, struggling to keep her voice steady while pleasure coursed through her body.
"But—" Maia heard Lan say something else, but she stopped paying attention to him, more focused on Archer's fingers being placed back in her mouth, silencing her once more.
"We need to finish already," he told her, his other hand working faster between her legs, feeling her inner walls clench around his fingers. He curved them upward, finding the spot that made her entire body tense.
Her eyes widened, pupils dilated, body trembling, with pleasure as she gushed her pussy juices against his hand, her muffled cries vibrating against his fingers as she shook in his grip. Archer held her steady as the waves of pleasure coursed through her, not relenting until she sagged against him, spent.
When he finally withdrew his hand, but still held Maia up before she turned in his arms, her face flushed and satisfied. "You're cruel bastard," she murmured, though her smile betrayed her true feelings as she still had a messy evidence between her legs that showed that she enjoyed herself.
"And you're reckless," he countered, stepping back to create some distance between them now that she had calmed down.
Archer looked down at his wet fingers, still glistening with evidence of their encounter. Maia grabbed a nearby cloth, wiping herself clean before adjusting her undergarments with practiced ease. Her face still flushed from her climax, the room smelling slightly musky, she began gathering her clothes and the garments that she wore. Just as he was about to Trace something to clean his hand, Maia spoke up.
"Here. Let me help clean that up."
She stepped to him again, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she took his hand in hers. Without a word, she brought his fingers to her lips, her tongue darting out to lick away the remnants of their encounter. She sucked gently, her mouth warm and wet, before releasing them with a soft pop. Her grin was wicked as she met his gaze. "There. All nice and clean," she purred.
He looked at her silently, watching as she slipped back into her regular clothing with remarkable speed. The transformation from seductress to mercenary happened in moments—only the lingering flush on her cheeks betrayed what had occurred.
"I'm buying these," she declared, holding up the risqué garments. "For later."
The promise in her eyes made his throat tighten, but he maintained his composure. "If you insist."
A soft knock interrupted them. "Is everything alright in there?" Lan's voice carried through the door, tinged with suspicion and poorly disguised jealousy.
"Just finishing up," Maia called back, smoothing her hair. She gave Archer a wink before unlocking the door.
"Maia-san! I couldn't help but notice some garments that seemed to suit Archer's taste. If you would like, I can show them to you."
Archer noticed the eager grin on Maia's face and held back a face palm.
"Hell yeah, I'm coming right out!"
"Quiet you!"
Maia didn’t seem to mind Archer’s annoyance, practically bounced with excitement at trying new clothes to tease him with, already moving toward the door to check out more clothes. Archer just shook his head.
2025-06-18 11:49:01 +0000 UTC
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Beta read by Shigiya.
Next update is An Archer's Promise.
Three story updates... I'm tired gonna sleep.
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-Underworld-
The concept of a protagonist gaining a power boost mid-fight after watching their allies get hurt or nearly defeated was about as original as Kalawarna coming up with several ‘secretary suits’ which she definitely did not intend to just use for seduction. That kind of trope had been beaten into the ground so many times that even the worms beneath it were getting tired of the same crap. These stories were as common as stars in the sky. So common, in fact, that they could probably keep Zaimokusa entertained for a few centuries straight, assuming he had the patience and a death wish for cliché overload.
Okay, I was getting a bit carried away here.
Worst of all, I could not complain too much, though. Having personally experienced this little trope more times than I dared to admit ever since I arrived in this world. Was I embarrassed by it? Not really. Sure, some outcomes were quite predictable now that I looked back at them, but considering it had helped keep me alive more than once—it was hard to argue with the results. If surviving meant dipping into anime logic now and then, I wasn’t going to bite the hand that kept me alive. I’d even thank it.
That said, after spending what felt like a lifetime playing the reluctant protagonist card, I had made a slight miscalculation. A stupid, glaring oversight that was now coming back to bite me. Not just lightly either. No, this bite came with serrated teeth and enough pressure to shatter bones like twigs.
‘Let’s be honest, that guy fits the title perfectly. Issei is your standard protagonist from the moment I found him back then, almost getting killed by Raynare.’
The ideal shounen lead.
Even if he’s a massive pervert that keeps eye humping my girlfriends.
The guy actually had a Sacred Gear with limitless potential and an overpowered ability from the get-go. I had barely registered that thought before a giant column of crimson and emerald light shot up into the sky. Ddraig’s voice echoed over the battlefield, as overdramatic as ever.
[Welsh Dragon Over Booster!]
Of course.
Vritra would have been losing his mind if he were still here. Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded letting him take over and just letting the two magical lizards duke it out while I chilled in the mental backseat, eyes closed, waiting for the fight to wrap up like it was just another shounen episode. I might’ve even enjoyed it if my unconscious mind came with snacks. Sadly, no popcorn to make this train wreck bearable.
"Damn it all to hell," I muttered to myself, cursing everything from fate to the sheer absurdity of the situation. Now I was the one left to deal with this mess. I blamed Rizevim for putting me in such a position where I became unable to rely on Vritra, but I also blamed myself. And maybe, just a little, I blamed Sona too.
So I turned to her and gave her the most unimpressed, narrowed-eye glare I could manage under the weight of all this absurdity.
"What the hell did you do to seduce Issei to this level? Did you promise to let him touch your boobs if you won or something?"
Pa!
For that, she wasted no time in giving me a firm slap to the face.
Ouch.
I won’t lie, I deserved that.
“I’m coming for you, Kaicho!” Issei’s voice rang out like a war cry from across the field. His figure tore through the sky like a red comet, dramatic flair and all. He was getting closer. Fast.
At this point, I couldn’t even remember why I was still trying to win this Rating Game. Seriously, was there a reason strong enough to justify me standing here while this walking power-up machine came flying straight at me like a heat-seeking missile? There was no winning here. In the best-case scenario, I let everyone else handle him and further push him to power up. Worst-case scenario, I made him go into another transformation on top of Balance Breaker out of sheer narrative bullshit and have everyone in my team turn into a smoking crater in the ground.
Never underestimate the sheer, ridiculous power of a protagonist fueled by plot armor. It’s like the one universal rule every villain in every story ever written, from manga to light novels, seems to forget—and I wasn’t about to be the idiot who joined that club.
Then again, did I even count as a villain? I had the name for it. "Black Dragon King" definitely screamed final boss energy. Without Vritra’s voice chiming in to provide unwanted but occasionally useful commentary, the question just echoed in my head, unanswered and sad. Great. Now I felt even less motivated to fight this guy.
"Let’s just wrap this up. You win, Sona. I admit defe—mmf!"
My sentence never made out. Raynare’s hand clamped down over my mouth, her face suddenly inches from mine. The glare she gave me wasn’t just angry — it was a full promise of future violence if I dared finish what I was saying.
"Shut the hell up, you coward! This is not the time to get cold feet and back away. This is my chance, and I've been waiting to teach that kid a lesson all this time!"
Her six wings burst open with a sharp snap, the familiar glow of light spears forming in both of her hands. There was a manic glint in her eyes, the kind that made it hard to tell if she was angry or just enjoying herself a bit too much. Even her hard little peaks poking through that leather BDSM outfit would just be a shot in the dark. She grinned like someone who had waited years to cash in a grudge, and judging by how tense her body was, she'd been itching for this moment for quite some time.
"You are not the only one who got stronger, human!" she shouted at the red comet streaking toward us through the sky.
"Friendly reminder that he’s a reincarnated devil now," I said, pointing up with a single finger, not that she paid me any mind.
"Shut up! You know what I mean!"
"I really don't," I muttered, watching her blur forward in a sudden burst of light. She launched herself upward, vanishing into the sky like a guided missile. Then, proceeding to collide with the oncoming red blur, producing a thunderous crash. Her light spear slammed against the gauntlet of the Red Dragon Emperor, and the shockwave that followed was anything but subtle.
Even from where I stood, far below the point of impact, I felt the air punch through me like a slap to the face. My ears rang a bit, my bones rattled, and the sheer amount of rising energy showed no signs of stopping. Great, another reminder that I wasn’t built for this kind of world-shaking power nonsense without Vritra. Despite dealing with gods, fallen angels, and cadres, this further served to drive the point of not facing this guy even further.
"He's just going to become Vali 2.0. But this one likes boobs. The other one’s all about asses," I mumbled, making my way toward Sona.
The bespectacled devil king had her mouth wide open, a rare crack in her usual cool-headed composure. Honestly, seeing Sona look that stunned was mildly entertaining, but I decided not to comment on it too directly. She was clearly not expecting this kind of raw output from her Pawn.
The fight raged on in the sky above us. Each impact sparked another explosion of energy that shook the clouds and sent out fresh waves of force. Not quite at the same level of a fight against a Cadre yet, or even what I saw from Sairaorg a few days ago — still quite impressive. From the way things were going, it didn’t look like it would be over anytime soon.
"So you’ll just be standing there all day gawking at the scene?" I asked, easing myself down to sit on the edge of the rooftop.
The moment I looked over the edge, my stomach did a little somersault. Right. Heights. Still not over that one… especially when I could not summon my Prison wings so easily. Wait, couldn't I just summon Devil Wings? Regardless, I shoved the feeling down and popped a chip into my mouth from the half-crushed bag I got from the fake mall. The chips were surprisingly decent, hopefully not fake or whatever devil magic nonsense to trick taste buds.
"How is this possible…" I heard Sona whisper. Her voice was quiet, shaken. "Our training… he never showed such a level of power."
Ah. She still had much to learn.
Naive as always. I could practically feel the protagonist's energy radiating from the scene, and as a fake, and reluctant, I might add, protagonist myself, I figured I might as well do the world a favor and pass on some wisdom.
"I’ll thell you right now, get ushed to it," I said between crunches from the chips. "You think your team ish about to lose? Too bath. That’sh exactly when the hero makes his dramatic comeback. Next thing you know, he's ten times stronger than he was five minutes ago and takesh all the sphotlight. I think this is his first transformation or something, so the power-up isn’t even at its final form yet. Againsht Vali, he still falls short. But if Vritra were watching, I bet he'd be having the time of his life."
Sona looked at me with complete confusion, her face a mix of curiosity and irritation from my simple, straightforward explanation.
"What are you talking about?" she asked, blinking.
I patted the empty space next to me and gave her a lazy gesture to sit. Might as well enjoy the fight like a proper pair of spectators.
[Boost!]
Ddraig's thundering voice came from the sky.
"It doesn’t matter how much you fucking boost! I ain’t losing against you anymore!" Raynare summoned even more of those light spears, throwing all of them as fast as she could. As a Fallen, her powers did have an advantage against Devils, but given that those spears kept breaking apart as soon as they touched the armor—that advantage just was not there.
But it probably still hurt like hell, given that Issei started to evade them.
[Boost!]
Wow. Those two were really going at it, and Issei's powers just kept growing. They shouted like they were in some kind of budget-friendly anime movie special where all the funding went into the sound effects and none of it into subtle dialogue.
Sona, meanwhile, kept glancing between the chaos above and me, clearly fighting a mental battle of her own. Eventually, she sighed and sat down beside me, tucking her legs neatly under her skirt.
I held out the chip bag again. This time, her eyes lingered for a moment before she cautiously reached in and took one.
"This is supposed to be a Rating Game, you know," she muttered. “We're supposed to be fighting one another and pushing ourselves to come out victorious.”
"I don’t recall any rule saying that two kings can’t have a little rooftop snack break together," I replied. "Besides, I don’t even have Evil Pieces that I used to turn others to Devils, thus I am not a King, so technically this doesn’t count. If anything, this is just a particularly intense rooftop lunch session with better pyrotechnics."
"Are you even taking this fight seriously?"
I gave her a side glance, the kind that probably said more than any answer could. Still, I replied anyway, because apparently body language wasn’t enough these days.
"Are you seriously asking me that after everything that just happened?" I said, voice flat. “Just because I am not covered in sweat, screaming my lungs out, or dressed in some edgy dark armor shouting attack names doesn't mean I did not give it my all.” But apparently, unless I was rolling on the floor yelling 'super mega dragon burst' or ‘taste my infinite power of friendship, rrrraaagghhh!’, my level of effort was always in question.
“Then why sit here? I know, no, I have seen you go up against the White Dragon Emperor before.”
"I just don’t think it’s worth going up against him," I added, already tired of this line of questioning.
No way I was bringing up Rizevim right now. That’d just send Sona into a spiral, and the last thing we needed was her freaking out mid-Rating Game. Not that this whole mess was anything close to ideal anyway. I’d have to loop in Sirzechs and the other Satans first—Ajuka especially. If anyone could figure out how to fix my current… issue, it’d be him.
Though luck and I didn’t exactly go hand-in-hand.
"Dragon Shot!" Issei’s voice echoed from the far end of the battlefield.
A vivid crimson glow flared around his gauntlet as energy gathered into a tight, pulsating sphere.
Then he outright punched it forward.
The orb turned into a laser beam that roared across the air before slamming directly into Raynare, sending her body spiraling into the ground like a speeding comet.
"Aaaarhh!!" she screamed, and to my surprise, she got back up just a few seconds later.
Burns marked her skin, her clothes slightly torn from the blast. Bruises here and there, but mostly intact. She had used her wings to shield herself at the last second, managing to avoid the worst of it… But that came with the price of having one of her wings completely burned and barely hanging on. Honestly, I had expected her to be down for the count after that.
"At this point, he has become the heaviest hitter in your group," I muttered, half to myself.
Sona stood silently beside me, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the field. After a pause, she gave a small nod, the kind that said she’d come to the same conclusion but didn’t want to admit it out loud. She did not seem as proud as I thought she'd be, perhaps worried about the imbalance on her team knowing her.
"I’ve truly underestimated just how powerful the Boosted Gear is," she said.
"Well, the thing does contain the soul of a Heavenly Dragon and gives the user the ability to double their power every ten seconds," I pointed out, somewhat stating the obvious. "What actually surprises me is that you underestimated it at all."
"I meant that I underestimated his growth speed, not the Gear itself," she clarified, her tone level as ever. "It’s just that... Issei’s demonic reserves were abysmal. Even after days of continuous training, they barely grew. Honestly, a random devil child from the Underworld probably had more energy than he did."
I nodded slightly.
She wasn’t wrong. Issei’s mana pool had been laughably small when he first started, just like mine. Even now, it wasn’t anything to write home about, but the way he managed to hit like a truck despite that was... Envious. All the work I invested to grow mine, compared to his, who just did it in a matter of hours, really dampened the spirit.
Perhaps this kind of growth had to be expected from those having Heavenly Dragons within their Sacred Gears.
"I was never afraid that he wouldn’t become strong," Sona went on, "I was just afraid that it would take too long. Years, even."
"But this..." she trailed off, gesturing toward the aftermath of the attack. “This went completely beyond all my calculations.”
"This is what you call the power of friendship," I said flatly, then paused. "Actually, no. Scratch that. This is probably more like the power of love, considering the boy has a crush on you."
She turned to me with a weird look on her face. It was somewhere between amusement and mild offense.
"Vritra told me something a while back," I continued before she could say anything. "The Boosted Gear is best suited to those who are extremely passionate. People like Issei. Loud, determined, overflowing with emotions. That kind of personality makes it easier for the gear to synchronize with its host. In other words, Issei probably has one of the highest affinities possible just because of who he is. And what better way is there to stimulate a person like that when it involves the person they want to impress the most? In this case, him, wanting to save you from my evil clutches."
"A Sacred Gear that scales with the user's personality is nothing new," Sona said, pushing her glasses up. "I spent several days reading through historical records and older cases. Most of the past Boosted Gear wielders shared a similar profile. Energetic, reckless, driven by intense feelings."
She paused again, her gaze drifting toward the battlefield where Issei was already preparing for another attack.
"But even with that, none of them achieved such an explosive increase in power so quickly. From what I read, the fastest case still took years. At least five, to reach the level of an Ultimate-class devil. Issei hasn’t even had his Sacred Gear for half that time."
She fell silent, and I didn’t respond. There wasn’t much else to say.
"Then that means his affinity with that thing is much higher than either of us is thinking. Who knows, he might end up becoming the strongest Red Dragon Emperor," I continued, reluctantly, as the words left my mouth. I already felt like I was overpraising the guy. But then he went and sprouted jet boosters on his back, unleashing a barrage of red lasers that scorched the air and forced Raynare to spiral out of the way, barely dodging each blast. One of them collided with the far end of the mall, vaporizing a large section of the wall as if it were made of paper.
My opinion shifted in real-time.
Maybe I wasn't praising him enough.
"I'm still confused about what you mean by the power of love," Sona said beside me, brows drawn in earnest confusion.
I stared at her. Flat. Unblinking. Was she serious? For all her intelligence, this level of emotional density was something else. But I wasn’t really surprised. Who was I kidding? Of course, she was this dense.
"He loves you. Or, well, he has a massive crush on you. Or your chest. Could be one, could be both," I said bluntly, holding myself back from commenting that there was not much on the chest to begin with. I did not want to end up getting a second slap, thank you very much.
Her face turned a light shade of red as she shuffled a few steps away, arms instinctively moving to cover her chest.
"Hey, why are you looking at me as if I'm the perverted one here?"
"You’re in a relationship with Rias and Akeno," Sona replied without missing a beat as if that in itself was enough to prove her point. "And I’ve heard plenty of what’s been going on between you three from various students."
Wait. What?
I blinked, the words taking a second to register. That was news to me. Who the hell was spreading rumors about me? It had to be Aika. There was no one else reckless enough to go flinging that kind of gossip around the school like it was her part-time job.
"Also, you slept with a Valkyrie not that long ago."
"That's not true. It was just a misunderstanding!" I exclaimed, feeling cornered by the sheer absurdity of the accusation. "I told you that drunk woman wouldn't let me go! She would’ve ended up turned into a devil if she wandered around the castle in that state. I had to do something. In fact, you could argue that what I did helped avoid a political disaster!"
A short pause followed.
"Pft."
It hit me a second too late. She was shaking slightly, arms folded across her stomach, lips curled as she tried to hold it in. And then it came, an audible laugh. Not smug or mocking. A genuine, amused laugh at my expense.
She got me.
"Well, look at you," I said through a sigh, unable to believe how I felt about that. "You’ve actually gotten better at lying your way out of things. How devil-like of you."
She gave me a smile, one of those rare ones that weren’t calculated or subtle. Just... warm.
"Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment," Sona muttered. "And think of this as payback for beating me at the Rating Game."
I gave her a weird look because of that, "Oi, going a bit fast here, aren’t we? Might I remind you that we’re still in the middle of a fight? Your boy just activated a new form that literally doubles his power output. Even Raynare’s starting to get pushed back."
I gestured to the battlefield. The air crackled with leftover energy from Issei's last barrage. He was moving slower now, each beat of his wings looking heavier, more forced. His new form, impressive as it was, clearly placed a heavy toll on his body. On the other end, Raynare wasn’t doing much better. Her body was covered in cuts and scorch marks, her clothes torn, two of her wings twisted and half-broken. She hovered, barely, sweat streaming down her bruised face.
"You still didn’t tell me what you thought about that love part," I said, watching her out of the corner of my eye. "You're clearly trying to change the subject, but I’m curious what you really think. The boy might be impulsive, and sure, he’s got his quirks, but he’s not a bad person. If he ends up chasing you around with stars in his eyes, it wouldn’t be fair to let him get dragged along by the nose."
"Who's to say he’s not doing this for another member of the peerage?" she tried to argue, her tone slipping into that calm reasoning.
I didn’t say anything. I just gave her a dry, blank stare that had shut down better arguments than this one. Before I could add a sarcastic remark, the boy’s voice echoed across the battlefield.
"Kaicho, I’ll make sure you win this game and that no one will be able to touch your boobs!"
“...”
Well, if that wasn’t enough to kill her argument where it stood, I honestly had no idea what would be.
She turned her face away from me slightly, a tinge of embarrassment softening her expression. “He should focus more on becoming stronger first… and pay more attention to Reya.”
“Reya, really?” I asked, genuinely stunned. Sona gave me a nod.
“She's great at hiding it. But Tsubaki learned about it after Reya got drunk. I think Tsubasa also has something for him.”
Without saying anything, she snatched the chips back from my hand and shoved a handful into her mouth, chewing like the motion itself could erase the sound of that yell from existence.
"Careful," I said, watching her with half-lidded eyes as I handed her the smoothie I had picked up earlier from the cafeteria. "You’re going to choke."
She accepted it with a nod, but didn’t respond. I took a sip of mine while she drank, and once again I was hit by that same strange, bitter aftertaste. Whoever programmed this copy of the school really had an obsessive level of detail. Even the drinks had that artificial bitterness, like the cafeteria staff had a grudge against sugar or added a questionable chemical just for spite.
"Well," she said, lowering the cup and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, "it is his choice if he wants to pursue me. But I already told both Saji and him the same thing. I’m more interested in accomplishing my goals than chasing after some idea of romance."
"Yeah, I’m not surprised that’s your answer," I replied, my voice calm. I watched the last remnants of the mall collapse in the distance, reduced to little more than ruined frames and ash swirling in the artificial wind. The outcome was now clearly in the hands of whoever lasted longer. It wasn’t about technique anymore. It had become a war of attrition.
And if that were the case, then the result could honestly go either way.
Reynare was still standing somehow, although by all logic, she shouldn't be. Her body had taken multiple direct hits. The fact that she could even form a light spear now was already bordering on miraculous. But her weapon looked ghostly, almost like brittle glass shaped into a blade, one strong hit away from shattering into useless fragments.
Even in my current state, I felt confident being able to break them with a few simple spells.
Issei, on the other hand, was clearly near his limit. The emerald glow that had once roared like a volcano around him had dulled to a faint glimmer. The jewels embedded in his armor had lost their emerald luster, flickering dimly like dying embers. And having dealt with dragon-based Sacred Gears myself, I had to admit I was surprised he’d held that form for this long without passing out.
"You could just kill me right now. Defeat me," Sona said suddenly, her voice breaking through the quiet. I turned to look at her.
"I trust in my abilities," she continued, her tone still calm, but now tinged with something far more honest. "And I’m certain I can keep up with you for a while. But I’m not delusional enough to think I can actually beat you. Even without your armor, you still have that spear artifact. Just one solid hit would put me out of the game. If you fear going overboard, then that weapon is the answer. So why haven’t you used it yet?"
“Maybe because I'm feeling merciful?”
She paused, then added with a certain edge to her voice, "I don’t think it’s something as simple as mercy. That’s not really your style."
"I don’t know what you mean by that not being my style," I replied, not looking at her right away. "Taking the easiest option is kind of my specialty. If sparing you now saves me trouble later, why wouldn’t I do that?"
I turned my gaze back to the field. My voice didn’t shift much.
"But you’re also selling yourself short. Yeah, it’s true that you still have a long way to go before you’re standing alongside the top fighters in this world. Top beings, even. But the same goes for me. I’m not in the top ten. Hell, not even the top fifty, probably. There are absurdly powerful monsters walking around out there, most of them too bored or arrogant to bother showing up."
I glanced at her again.
"I’m sure you’ll reach that level someday. I doubt you’ll settle for anything less."
She didn’t respond immediately. But the way she looked out at the battlefield, the faint set of her jaw, told me she was still listening.
She showed a somber expression, as if holding back a sigh.
"What makes you say that, really? Is it because my sister is Serafall, and you believe that just because we’re related, I’ll reach the same level as her?"
Even a blind man could have spotted the clear traces of insecurity in her voice. When it came to her sister, how could anyone blame her? That woman was, after all, a major figure during the Civil War, someone who went toe to toe with powerful beings and came out on top. She didn’t just grow stronger; she practically became a legend, eventually earning the title of Leviathan. They even said she was Gabriel’s rival in strength and beauty.
The strength part, I could buy. But the beauty? That was where I struggled. Sure, Serafall was cute—no doubt there. But calling her Gabriel’s equal in that department? That felt like comparing a fireworks show to the sun. Gabriel didn’t just look good. Her appearance seemed engineered to scramble people’s higher reasoning. I wouldn’t be surprised if even a monk who spent thirty years in seclusion ended up failing a vow of celibacy after one glance at her.
"That’s not it," I said, shaking my head. That got her to look at me, waiting for me to go on. "I know you’ll reach that level. Not because you’re Serafall’s sister. But because you’re Sona. The Sona I know is strict not just with others, but with herself. You give everything your all, student council duties, training, and even the smallest task. I've never once seen you do anything halfway. I can’t even picture it. I’m honestly convinced that you don’t know the meaning of ‘breaks.’"
Yes, people like Sirzechs and Ajuka were freakishly talented. Same with Serafall. They were monsters in their own right, born with skills that nobody else in their generation could match. But even that didn’t come from nowhere. They grew up during a war. Strength wasn’t optional for them. It was survival. They were forced to push themselves until they could finally protect the ones they cared about and put an end to the chaos.
So no, it wasn’t fair to compare herself to that.
"This isn’t a war. You don’t have to rise out of blood and ruin to get stronger. You have time. You have discipline. And most importantly, you have yourself and others. You’ll reach that level not because you’re Serafall’s sister, but because you’re you."
Maybe I talked too much, or maybe the timing was just right, because right after I finished, I heard Grayfia’s cold voice announce that Raynare was eliminated.
A dull thud followed. Both Sona and I turned to see Issei land on the rooftop, his crimson Scale Mail still active. He was upright, but barely. His energy was nearly spent. If he had anything left in him, it would probably only be enough for one last strike.
"Okay then. Looks like it’s my turn now," I muttered, getting up from where I had been sitting and stepping forward to face the brown-haired devil just a few paces away.
"You bastard, don’t think I’ll lose that easily. I beat your queen, and now there’s only you left!" he shouted with as much fire as he could muster.
I raised an eyebrow.
Last I checked, neither Xenovia, Kalawarna, nor Kuroka had gone down yet, which meant he had clearly forgotten about them. And honestly, after this, the winner would go on to face Sairaorg. I wasn’t suicidal enough to try that, not even with Vritra backing me up.
With that bitch no longer here to yell at me for giving up, I raised my hands. Sona and Issei both stared at me like I’d grown a second head, probably thinking I was about to activate my Sacred Gear.
But honestly, looking at the board from a tactical point of view, with my so-called Queen out and the opposing Pawn now promoted to a Queen still standing, wasn’t this already a checkmate?
"You performed well, Issei," I said. “Unfortunately, I won't be around to see just how strong you are, so I'll be admitting defeat—”
“No,” this time it was Sona who stopped me. These half-finished sentences getting stopped midway were getting on my nerves. Were these girls doing so deliberately?
“What?” Both Issei and I looked at her with confusion.
“We already lost.” She said calmly, neither looking upset nor saddened by this news. But how were they disqualified?
[Sona Sitri's team has been disqualified for not following the rules. The Mall and most of the surroundings have been destroyed. Which makes Hikigaya Hachiman the victor of this Rating Game by default.]
“...”
“...”
Both Issei and I were left there, stunned. Only a second later did I remember the rules and how I even mentioned to Sona how I would use it in her place if our teams were to switch. Turning my head, it was as Grayfia mentioned, nothing remained of the building below because of Issei's attacks.
But… Raynare was also part of it.
So why was I not disqualified as well?
“It was fun,” Sona mentioned as our bodies were being teleported back. But she was not just done with a simple sentence, going onto her tiptoes and planting a kiss on my lips. It was soft. “That was a reward, I believe you get quite a few of them from others. In a way, I still won, you're still technically mine with that Evil Piece I used.”
Sona smirked at my expression before she and Issei disappeared.
Perhaps the entire thing was too much for me to process so quickly, but when I regained my cool, we were already teleported back to the main room as I heard the girls speaking to one another around me. Yet before that, the first thing I ended up seeing was not the luxurious waiting room—but instead Serafall’s smiling face.
Though that smile felt oddly ominous.
“So-tan kissed you.”
Just how fast was this woman to get here as soon as she saw that?
It was genuinely scary.
2025-06-13 19:30:18 +0000 UTC
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Beta read and co-written by Gamercrusher55 and Shigiya
Next update is Snafu in... ALSO A FEW MINUTES!
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-Fuyuki, Tohsaka Residence-
The summoning ritual held a tremendous significance for Rin. Every aspect of it needed to be prepared flawlessly. It was one of the key reasons she had waited so long before attempting the ceremony. Her body needed to be in peak condition, her mind sharpened and unwavering, her reserves of Magical Energy fully stocked, and every resource painstakingly prepared in advance. The contract between the ideal Master and Servant could not be established under anything less than optimal conditions.
Now that the moment had arrived, hesitation clawed at her one last time, but she brushed it aside. With Berserker and Rider already summoned by others, and even a Caster having made their appearance, the field of available heroic spirits had grown significantly narrower. The list of possibilities, once vast and glittering with promise, now seemed reduced to fragments of what might have been. She had no intention of letting her chance slip through her fingers.
‘If I delay any longer, then I won’t even be able to summon a Servant in the first place.’
That thought had circled her mind relentlessly from the moment she entered the summoning chamber. It haunted her not just because Berserker had been claimed, but also because Rider's appearance had been both unexpected and problematic. Caster’s arrival had only worsened matters. All of it made her feel as though what she truly wanted, the Servant she had dreamed of summoning, had become nothing more than a shattered dream.
Still, there was some comfort in knowing Berserker was no longer an option. That was one class she would have preferred to avoid. As for Rider... well, Rin supposed she could do without her. Yet the way that Servant had held her ground, even briefly, against that monstrous Berserker was nothing short of astonishing. She may not have realized it at the time, not without being a Master herself, but standing toe-to-toe with that towering brute Heroic Spirit had been no ordinary feat—especially not for one of the Rider class. It made Rin wonder even more about the true identity of that Servant, though every time she asked, Shirou would artfully dodge the question like a politician caught in a corner.
“Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.”
The girl shook those distractions from her head as she neared the end of the ritual. She began the final incantation, “You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance!”
Waves of red energy filled the air, doing fine work on messing up her workshop. The circle beneath her feet pulsed to life. First, a dull shimmer, then an escalating brilliance as crimson light intertwined with burning white. Her limbs tensed as some Magical Energy started to be syphoned. At the same time, a burning pressure flared up on the back of her hand, searing the shape of the command seals into her skin.
Then silence.
The light faded slowly, the crimson shimmer dimming until it vanished altogether. The glow from the summoning circle ebbed away like dying embers. Rin lowered her arms, heart pounding, and looked ahead, expecting to see a figure standing before her.
But there was no one.
No Servant. No sign of arrival. Nothing at all.
Dread crept into her stomach like a spreading frost.
“Wait, have I done something wrong? Why hasn’t—”
Her panicked thoughts were cut short by the sound of a faint creak from the floor overhead, loud enough to reach her ears. The girl's eyes widened in alarm.
Was that... upstairs?
A cold chill ran down her spine. The first thought that struck her was far from rational.
Had Berserker’s Master come back? Was this revenge, delivered at the very moment she was trying to summon, to avoid future competition? Before her own Servant had even appeared?
While she was low on magical energy from her attempt at summoning?
Snatching up a handful of gems she had, Rin turned on her heel and bolted toward the living room, panic propelling her faster than reason could follow.
“Damn it! Why now, of all times?! Has the Servant even been summoned yet!?”
Not wanting to rule out any other possibility, she concluded that staying holed up in her workshop would do her no good. Clutching the gem hanging from her neck with a steady hand, she ascended the stairs with caution. There was no need to rush, not yet. Taking each step carefully, every creak of the wood beneath her feet echoing through the tense silence of the house. It never occurred to her to check the time again. She had not glanced at the clock since she’d begun the ritual.
Her hand pushed the door open slowly.
The faint groan of the hinges filled the air as she slipped into the dim living room. Filled with old covered furnishings that matched the European and Western design, exactly as she had left them a while ago. Nothing appeared disturbed. No windows shattered, no sign of intrusion.
‘Was I imagining it? No, that couldn’t be it.’
Her gaze flicked down to the command seals etched into her skin, their faint glow still lingering. Something had happened… no way the summoning was a failure if these seals appeared.
Had she perhaps somehow miscast the ritual? Made a mistake despite all her preparations? But that didn’t make sense. She had timed everything perfectly, waited until her magical energy was at its very peak. She hadn’t rushed the chant. Every line had been precise.
Her breath caught.
“Eh...?”
She froze in place, eyes locked on the small digital clock sitting on the nearby cabinet. It blinked at her with a time completely different from what she had seen downstairs. Her heart skipped a beat.
“Shit.”
That single word fell from her lips as the realization dawned on her.
She had miscalculated.
Whatever had happened, it had not been an attack, and it certainly was not Berserker’s Master barging into her home. With that conclusion, she tossed caution aside and bolted from the room, her footsteps pounding against the wooden floors as she tore down the hallway. Checking every room in quick succession, eyes scanning each one for signs of disturbance or a presence that shouldn’t belong.
Then, as she rounded the corner into the living room once more, she came to a sudden stop.
There, standing quietly in the dim glow near the bookshelf, was a tall figure. He… he was not doing anything threatening. In fact, simply gazed down at a picture frame resting in his hand. It was one of the few photographs Rin still kept on display, a snapshot from long ago, showing her family together, whole.
“Oh?”
The man turned slightly at the sound of her arrival. His crimson eyes met hers, glinting faintly in the dimly lit space. Though no words had yet passed between them, she knew instantly what he was.
The man stood tall, broad-shouldered, with striking blue hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. His outfit resembled some kind of flexible leather armor, a leotard, or a full-body spandex. Its design is sleek and practical, not so much armor, more in the line of freedom of movement and speed, matching the shade of his hair. A pair of metal pauldrons sat squarely on his shoulders, and more metal around his shoes. There were small metal pads on some essential areas, but other than that, just blue spandex with white lines that highlighted his muscles and body build.
“I was wondering where you were,” he said at last, his voice casual, even friendly. “For a moment there, I started to think I was all alone in here.”
“You are...” Rin began, but the words trailed off. He certainly didn’t look like an Assassin. And no Saber she could imagine wielding a weapon like that.
The long red spear resting across his shoulders was the final piece of the puzzle. Its jagged edges and the bloodlust it oozed spoke of its war inclination and its importance.
She didn’t even have time to finish her sentence before the man broke into a grin and gave her a small wave. With a flourish, he spun the spear in one hand, the motion practiced and fluid, then drove the butt of it into the floor with a sharp thud that echoed through the room. He straightened to full height, towering over her, placing one hand on his hip as he introduced himself with a smile.
“Yo. Servant Lancer, reporting in. Answered your summons, Master. Let’s try to have some fun, yeah?”
“...”
Rin stared at him without answering. Seconds ticked by in silence, long enough for even Lancer to furrow his brow.
He tilted his head.
“Did you… Maybe summon me by accident, perchance? The place does have a bit of an abandoned feel to it, so if you’re just some lady who stumbled into something she shouldn’t have, then boy, do I have a lot to explain.”
"I did it again," Rin muttered under her breath, completely ignoring the small comment he made about the house.
It all began to make sense. The discrepancy in time, her summoning occurring earlier than expected, the unease that had haunted her since the circle flared to life, every sign pointed to one thing. She had made a mistake. She hadn’t summoned Saber, no, but that didn’t mean she’d botched the ritual entirely. Her calculations were perfect. The result, simply, was different.
Her peak was at 2:00 A.M. sharp, that was the ideal time, and while the clocks in her house said that it was now, Ayako’s phone showed 1:00 A.M., a full hour before she was at her best.
…The result is a Lancer.
Like a curse, it happened every time. Rin let out a sharp exhale, half a laugh, and half a sigh of resignation.
"Haah... nothing I can do about it now. Just go with it and learn from my mistakes."
"Mistakes?" the Servant questioned, one brow arching high in mild confusion.
"You really are a Lancer, huh..." Rin muttered, giving him a long, suffering look before shaking her head. Her expression turned from thoughtful to exasperated in an instant. "Well, it’s still better than summoning an Assassin."
Then her eyes narrowed. She gestured toward the polished wooden floor, now sporting a neat hole where the crimson-tipped end of his spear had embedded itself.
"By the way, could you not damage my house?"
Lancer blinked, then followed the direction of her pointed finger. With a sheepish smile, he pulled his spear free of the floor and dismissed it in a shimmer of mana.
"Ah. Sorry about that."
Rin folded her arms across her chest, unimpressed. But before she could deliver another lecture, Lancer tilted his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in a more amused expression.
"I see. Well, Saber is a solid choice, no doubt about that. But with me here, I’d say you’ve landed the better deal, Master. I’m no pushover."
Rin gave him a look that was more thoughtful than impressed. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and one brow arched in response to his bravado.
"No Servants are exactly a pushover in the first place," she replied coolly. “They would not have become Heroic Spirits in the first place.”
He chuckled at that, arms crossing loosely as he leaned back on his heel.
"I suppose you’re right. Looks like I’ve got myself a sharp one. That’ll come in handy in this Holy Grail War."
There was something casual about his tone, but Rin wasn’t fooled. Her gaze stayed on him, calculating. She had done her homework on what could go wrong with a summoning. Unruly Servants, those who outright disobeyed or even tried to kill their Masters, especially in the Berserker class, were not an impossibility. That had been her greatest fear. She'd poured all her efforts into summoning a Saber, trusting in that class’s strong parameters and balanced combat performance. But the Lancer class was no less powerful, and with its natural advantage against Archers and its high agility, it might even be a blessing in disguise.
She exhaled slowly.
"Alright. I can at least count myself lucky that not all the Servants had been summoned already. I’d hate to have been left with no choice at all." She straightened her posture, her voice affirming with a sense of finality. "Okay then, Lancer, I am indeed your Master; Rin Tohsaka of the Tohsaka family. I hope and expect we can work well together and win this war without any friction between us."
"Couldn’t have said it better myself," Lancer said with a grin. "Just point at whoever you want gone and I’ll take care of it. Preferably a strong opponent, but hey, you’re the boss. So... when do we go hunting?"
That last part slipped out with a trace of eagerness he didn’t bother to hide, and Rin noted it instantly. Even after just a few minutes of conversation, it was becoming clear… this guy was a battle maniac, perhaps. Not inherently a problem, but something that needed testing. She had to be sure he could restrain himself if needed.
"No," she said simply. "I have another task for you first."
Lancer’s grin faded a little, replaced by the faintest hint of disappointment. He let out a small sigh before giving a shrug.
"Well, I suppose it’s still a bit early to be picking fights with the other Servants. You want me to scout the area or something? I’m not exactly built for sneaking around like an Assassin, but I can give it a go — if that’s what my Master wants."
"No."
Rin’s voice rang out as Lancer turned toward the window, clearly expecting to be sent out on reconnaissance. While she did plan to scout the area and assess just how capable her Servant was in the field, there was something else that required immediate attention. She jabbed a finger toward the damage on the wooden floor.
"Fix that first. You damaged my house, so it’s your responsibility to repair it."
"What?" Lancer blinked, utterly taken aback. His gaze bounced between the gash in the floorboards and the stern-faced girl standing before him.
"Hey, hey, are you serious?"
"Dead serious."
“This is a spear, not a mop.”
“I can see that.”
“Aren't you curious about my identity first?” He said while pointing at himself.
“I am. And are you trying to change the topic of conversation just to get away from it?”
“Yup.”
“We can do that later after you're done.”
Rin kept answering all of his questions without missing a beat or a change to her expression. Though a girl.
Still.
He blinked again. "You do know I’m a Servant, right?"
"And being a Servant somehow means you can’t do something as simple as patching up a floor?" Rin arched an eyebrow. "You can start thinking about your next steps and how you’ll assist me once you’ve finished fixing that. I’m going to my room. There are some materials in the basement, wooden planks, nails, a hammer, all of it. Oh, and while you’re at it, can you make tea?"
Lancer’s face shifted, part disbelief, part reluctant amusement. "Who doesn’t know how to boil flavored water?"
"Fair enough. The kitchen’s over there," she said without falling for that little jab, pointing offhandedly before turning on her heel. "Make me a cup after you’re done."
With that, she walked off, twin tails swaying behind her as she disappeared down the corridor, leaving the blue-clad warrior standing alone in the middle of the living room. The silence settled around him like a heavy coat. He remained there for a moment, processing what had just happened.
Still, rather than looking offended or even annoyed, a low chuckle escaped from his throat. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he glanced at the floor.
"I really do have bad luck with women like her."
In the end, he supposed she was right. It was his fault. He’d been careless with the spear, and fair was fair. Besides, it wasn’t as if he was above this sort of task. He had taken on far stranger roles before, some of them in that strange realm where he’d been as a student for his Shishou and even a reluctant caretaker depending on the day and the volatile whims of that woman.
At least he wasn't getting shot at with magic or getting whacked with a spear.
With a soft sigh, he rolled his shoulders and made his way toward the basement to retrieve the tools. Menial as it was, a task was a task, and it was clear that his new Master was not the type to tolerate excuses.
{Break}
-Matou Residence-
"I ask of you… Are you my Master?” As soon as those words left his mouth, Sakura felt herself at a loss, but also relieved. Happy to know that the summoning did not end in a failure, as she started to fear in the beginning, but now she worried about knowing little to nothing about this Servant, yet he gave off a strange feeling.
“Archer-class Servant. I have been summoned and come at your request.” He continued his introduction, crossing his hands and looking at her from above due to their height difference.
“Ar…cher?”
Despite being part of the Matou household and even having some basic education when it came to magecraft, along with the family’s history—Sakura found herself struggling to remember all of the information related to this class in particular. ‘I remember grandfather mentioning how they are weak against Lancer class Servants… but… but that's about all he said. I don't think they have any advantage over the Rider class.’
Perhaps that could be seen as a good thing this were the case, the young girl did not wish to be in conflict with Rider at any point. She was grateful to her and owed the woman a debt that could not be repaid easily.
“You seem surprised,” Archer commented while raising an eyebrow before looking at the broken ceiling behind him. “I have to admit, my entrance is very unusual. I cannot say why I ended up being someone a few hundred metres in the air in the first place, most likely a small mishap during the summoning ritual.”
His words, ending up reaching her ears, made the girl feel a sense of guilt in her heart, “Sorry… It's my fault. Are you okay? Did you… get hurt?”
At her question, the servant let out a light chuckle. “Well, would you look at that, it seems that I have landed myself a pretty caring Master who is willing to go far enough to feel worried about a Servant. Your concerns are very much appreciated, but ultimately wasted. Rest assured, I am perfectly fine.”
Sakura let out a sigh of relief she didn’t know she held.
Clang!
From the side, Zouken’s cane struck the floor, bringing everyone's attention onto him as his soulless black eyes with pure white pupils observed the new addition in the house just as much as the latter was observing him. Sakura could not see any kind of emotion on his face, indicating how the man felt towards her grandfather.
“While I am perfectly fine with the idea of a Master and their servant conversing with one another for a proper introduction, I believe there are some matters that need to be addressed immediately. The first matter being none other than your name, your true name.” Zouken stared at the newly summoned Servant, analyzing everything he could glean from him.
“Someone's curious,” Archer said, sounding unimpressed while looking at Zouken and Shinji. The latter, having recovered from his earlier scare, and now standing behind the old man while looking at the Servant with widened eyes.
“But of course. While a Servant's name is very important to keep hidden from enemies to avoid them learning of your weaknesses that can come from finding out your identity, I believe it is important for the Master to at least know of who they summoned in the first place.”
Sakura was indeed quite curious about his identity, perhaps a part of her hoping to find an answer as to where this feeling of familiarity stemmed from in the first place. But much to her disappointment, the white-haired man shook his head.
“...”
“Have you lost your tongue, boy? I have asked you a question."
Archer let out a low chuckle, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Heh. Calling a Heroic Spirit 'boy'—well, you certainly do look ancient enough to get away with it," he said sarcastically.
He rose from where he was, unhurried, with the same ease he might show to an old man at a bus stop. There was not a trace of fear in him, nor even the distant echo of reverence. His eyes, calm and unblinking, regarded Zouken as if he were simply another obstacle, not a figure of authority.
"Also, under what obligation am I to answer to you?" he asked, his voice carrying that distinct, sharpened edge of amusement layered over contempt. "I don’t know what your relationship is to my Master, nor do I care, if I’m being honest. What’s clear to me is this: neither you nor the trembling coward hiding behind has any Command Seals. So you're in no position to demand anything from me. In fact, those not officially involved in the Holy Grail War are, in most cases, to be eliminated. Isn’t that right?"
Shinji’s face turned white, mouth frozen half-open in disbelief. Even Sakura stood frozen beside him, her violet eyes wide in shock. She had not expected her Servant to speak with such audacity—least of all to her grandfather.
"Careful with your words."
The cane tapped the floor.
“Ah!”
The sound was soft. The pain that followed was not.
Sakura collapsed onto her knees as though gravity had doubled in an instant. Her fingers dug into the floor as she clutched her chest, eyes squeezed shut, her breath shattered into ragged gasps. Something inside her twisted, something dark and writhing and alive, as if her very organs were trying to claw their way out. The agony was not a surface wound—it was the kind of pain that came from deep within, from the roots of her existence. Her legs no longer functioned.
Archer’s eyes narrowed, the faintest flicker of something unknown crossing his expression as he turned to her. For a moment, he simply stared at her, the violet-haired girl kneeling and trembling on the ground. His hands twitched, but he made no move.
"Do you see now?" Zouken said, stepping forward with the same calm one might use when explaining a lecture to a child. "I am no passerby. I am not unrelated to this war. You are standing before one of the architects of the system itself. The very reason you exist here today."
His eyes glinted with a cruel, ancient clarity.
"Do not let your arrogance as a Heroic Spirit blind you, Servant. You may be bound to Sakura, but that tether also places you beneath my command. And if you dare to disobey, you will simply become unnecessary."
The pain receded. Slowly. Gradually.
Sakura’s breath came in hoarse, greedy gulps as the pressure within her body began to ease. The creature that stirred beneath her skin had returned to its slumber. Sweat clung to her forehead, her back, and the nape of her neck. Her limbs trembled as she pushed herself up with effort, first to her knees, then finally to her feet. But she couldn’t lift her head.
She could not meet Archer’s eyes.
Not after that.
Because whatever he may have thought of her before, this moment—this grotesque display of weakness—had shown him exactly what she was. Powerless. Submissive. A puppet who collapsed at the smallest twitch of her grandfather’s will.
And surely, she thought bitterly, a Servant summoned into this war to pursue a wish of his own would have no interest in following a Master who couldn’t even stand upright without permission.
"I will ask again," Zouken said with deliberate patience, his voice heavy with the weight of threat. "And I hope you do not give me the wrong answer this time."
His eyes bore into Archer’s.
"Which Heroic Spirit are you?"
“...”
Much to Sakura’s surprise, he remained silent, his gaze fully focused on her the entire time as if waiting for her to say something instead of anyone else. Seeing the increasingly displeased look from her grandfather, she knew she had to act quickly. “You can answer him, Archer.”
Finally, that seemed to earn what you could only describe as a small smirk on his face, before sighing out loud.
“Sorry to say, as much as I would like to share such important information with you, I wish I knew the answer myself.” Archer's response brought up an eerie silence within the room, the slight smirk on Zouken's face vanishing and replaced with a prominent frown when looking back at the Servant.
“Explain yourself.”
“It would seem that the circumstances behind my summoning might be the main cause behind it — something must have gone wrong, most likely. Just thinking about where I was even summoned in the first place proves my point. I was not even certain who my Master was until I saw the command seals. All I have are faint echoes of the past, where I cannot make sense of most of them.”
"What the hell!? You're so useless, Sakura! You ended up summoning someone who has amnesia and won’t even be helpful to me! How the hell am I supposed to use a useless Servant like this!?" Shinji shouted, voice shrill with frustration.
He stepped forward, fists clenched, only to stop short as Archer’s narrowed stare locked onto him. The Servant’s gaze carried the weight of a battlefield, and the boy’s bravado wilted under it. Shinji involuntarily took a step back.
"I do not recall ever agreeing to let you take control of me," Archer said coolly. "Even if there were a way to transfer the Command Seals to you, I am afraid I am not so keen on the idea of being passed around like a tool."
"You speak as if you had a choice," Zouken muttered, his voice thin and dry, like wind rustling through dead leaves. "You know the consequences of what will happen if you disobey my orders."
"Forgive me for saying this," Archer said, turning to face the old man, "but even with a surface-level assessment, it is clear this boy is not remotely capable of handling a Servant, let alone someone of my caliber. I can sense an overwhelming abundance of magical energy within her. Quite frankly, you would stand a far better chance of winning the Holy Grail War with both of us working together."
Zouken’s earlier threat, perhaps, had inflated Shinji’s ego. Puffing out his chest with false confidence, he jabbed a finger at Sakura.
"Sakura? She can barely hurt a fly, let alone lead anyone to victory in this war! She’s spent the last few weeks whori—"
"Enough," Zouken said sharply.
The room fell into dead silence.
Whatever Shinji had been about to say died in his throat. His mouth snapped shut, and his posture stiffened, shrinking as though he had been physically struck. His grandfather's warning had been clear.
"We did not summon you to participate in pointless bickering over their competence or what my grandchildren are or aren’t capable of doing," Zouken continued, voice low and controlled, but no less chilling. "I am perfectly aware of what he is capable of, Servant. That knowledge does not change my decision. Whether I choose to have you serve my grandson or my granddaughter is mine alone to make."
Archer’s eyes flickered, his stance calm but unyielding. "And as someone who claims to have helped create the system, you must be just as aware of the consequences that come from forcing a Servant to act against their will."
"That is why the Command Spells exist," Zouken replied coldly.
"A limited amount of Command Spells," Archer countered, his tone a shade sharper.
They had reached a standstill. Neither side budged. No one raised their voice. No one stepped forward. The tension hung like a blade suspended above all of them.
And yet, for Sakura, there was only one truth: giving Archer to Shinji would shatter the single purpose she had for entering the war in the first place.
Protecting Shirou, her Senpai.
"Grandfather," she said quietly, the tremble in her voice betrayed only by how hard she clenched her fists. "Please, let me keep Archer!"
The words escaped her lips before she could second-guess them. The standoff broke.
Two pairs of eyes turned toward her, their attention pinning her in place like spotlights on a stage. Her heart hammered in her chest, but she held their gaze. Somehow, she managed to keep herself together.
Barely.
“Hoh, are you actually willing to fully participate in the war, Sakura?” Zouken asked, the corner of his lips pulling into a sickening grin. “You know very well what that entails.”
“I am willing to participate in this war and win,” Sakura took a firm stand on the matter, raising her voice while hoping her grandfather would listen to her. “Please, I won't disappoint you.”
The old man shook his head, neither betraying any emotions of disappointment or joy. Instead, he turned his back, walking away from the living room. “I cannot remember the last time you spoke to me in such a manner. I have underestimated just how much your time with that boy has changed you. I'm curious to see if all of this is just a burst of rebellion, so for now, I'll be observing you closely.”
“W-Wait, what about me!” Shinji exclaimed, but got no response from him. Not wanting to remain in the same place any longer, he stood up, hesitating before hastily walking away and leaving Sakura all by herself with Archer.
With the two now gone, she heard another chuckle coming from the servant next to her. “What you said to that old man, I will be honest with you, Master, you did not sound very convincing. So I will ask myself, are you truly after the wish, or do you desire to win this Grail War in the first place?”
A wish… Sakura had to admit that getting her hands on such a prize would help her resolve so many of her current problems. Who would not desire such a thing in their lives? Having a master who equally desired winning such a prize would definitely be the ideal scenario for any Servant.
“I don't.”
Yet she could not muster up the strength to lie to him.
But instead of seeing an expression of disappointment on his face, looking up, all she found was pure curiosity as the man proceeded to sit on one of the sofas that hadn't been destroyed, resting his face on his hand while relaxing his whole body. “How unusual, who would have thought that my luck would have landed me with a master who does not even desire to win the Holy Grail War but still lied to her jailer.”
“I'm sorry…”
“There is no need to apologize, rather than disappointment, I mostly feel pity towards you. So embracing this feeling, I will ask you what you truly desire.” She raised her head with mild confusion, wondering why he was asking her such a thing. “Surprised? Don't be. At the end of the day, I am your Servant, and both of us would work with a mutual understanding between us of what each of us wants and what we don't. Using a driving force that is not yours to push through this war will not help us, and I would not want to waste my time with such things. I will lower an olive branch to you under only one condition. What is it that you truly want?”
What she truly wanted, that answer she had long since known before even steeling herself to come here.
“I want to protect sen—Shirou.” She answered, holding no doubt in her mind whatsoever. “I want to be with him, I want to stay by his side for as long as possible, I want to see him smile every day, I just want us to be together. But, I will not allow myself to live such a life if the price to pay is for him to face all of these dangers by himself. I do not wish to become the source of his problems… I want him to be happy.”
“...”
She laid everything on the table, hiding nothing of what was in her heart. Doing so to someone who was practically a stranger, but also an existence who could help her achieve this goal.
“You sure do cherish this boy quite a bit, don't you?” Archer replied, “He should count himself lucky for having such a caring lady. But does he know how far you are willing to go for him? Do you think he will accept it?”
She shook her head again. “Senpai cares for me a lot, but this is at the expense of his own safety. I know him, I learned more about him these past few days than the years we spent together in the past. He… tends not to think about himself when helping others. The others' lives are ahead of his; even if the person he's trying to save turns out to be his enemy, he would want to help them too. He wants to be a hero who can save everyone from suffering.”
“Humph,” Archer scoffed, a tone of bitterness evident in his tone. “Forgive me for my language, Master. But this person sure does sound like a fool to me. Even with what little memory I have, I can tell I have never heard something as ridiculous as this.”
She giggled, not taking his word to heart. “He is very kind and can be stubborn at times. But I still love him and I know that with enough effort — I'll be able to make him cherish himself more.”
This time, Archer hummed out loud. Showing a smirk on his face before getting up from the sofa and walking towards her. “This must be a first for me and even most Heroic Spirits, being summoned not to win a war but to make sure my Master's little lover does not end up killing himself.”
“You will understand when you meet him, he's a good person.”
At that, he just shrugged his shoulders. “Somehow I doubt that, but… We'll see.”
{Break}
-Emiya Residence-
(Early morning)
It has been a while since he woke up this late, the first thing shaking him up from his slumber being the sound of the alarm clock ringing near him. Tired golden brown eyes stared at the ceiling before he pulled himself up, feeling tired but also slightly drained…and refreshed. ‘Oh right, last night.’
The memories of what happened before coming back to the young boy like a tsunami, forcing a crimson blush on his face and making his heart pump excitedly down to his groin, much to his dismay. The images were vivid, he could still feel her touch on his hands, her fragrance, her voice speaking softly next to his ears, and much more that he dared not ponder on for too long.
“Sakura…?” Looking next to him, he expected to find her figure sleeping next to him for that was the last memory he had of hers before both of them practically fell unconscious from pure exhaustion. She wasn’t there, though. ‘Maybe she's already awake, it is quite late.’
Walking outside, he once again found no one around and grew even more confused. “Did she go out grocery shopping…?” Not the first time she did so, even though he told her that he would handle it himself.
“SHIROU, FOOD!!!”
Taiga’s voice rang loud enough to make the neighbors' dogs bark, opening the shoji doors with a slam and rushing to the living room. Smiling brightly as usual, but then came to a complete halt as soon as she saw him. “...Shirou?”
“Sorry, Fuji-nee, I went to sleep late and woke up la—mmf!?” The brunette practically closed the distance between them faster than he could react and grab onto his face while staring at him with a suspicious glare.
Her actions came out of literally nowhere and put him at a loss on what she was doing. “Fushi-mee?” Even his words came out slurred with how she was holding his face.
“Did you… no, it can't be. Can it?” She whispered quietly to herself, then proceeded to observe him from head to toe while he massaged his aching face. “Am I imagining it?”
Shirou finally managed to push Fuji-nee off his face.
“Jeez, what got into you this morning?” He asked, a bit aggrieved and swearing that he would make her least favourite meal because of this! “You better have not gone out drinking all night again.”
Then again, he did not smell any stench of alcohol from her. Then what was the issue?
“Shirou… did something happen between you and Sakura?”
“...”
How the hell… his clothes were a new set he just got from the wardrobe, having even taken a shower there was no way she could have known…
“I'm not sure what you're talking about.”
“My woman’s intuition is telling me otherwise!”
“You're just imagining things! Just sit down and wait for breakfast to be ready or else I'll make plain omelettes!” He shouted, not trusting himself from blushing once again if she kept saying such things. “Hah… just stay put. I’ll be back.”
Hastily walking away, Shirou passed by the corridor and noticed something odd. Sakura's room was left open, so he went to close it. The redhead noticed how neatly folded everything looked, but what caught his attention was the letter left on the table. “What?”
Having a bad feeling, he went ahead and opened the letter. Reading the content slowly, with each second making his face turn somber.
Without wasting a second, he got up and was about to rush outside, only to be stopped by Rider, who stood in front of the room. “Master…”
“Did she tell you about this?” He got a nod, clenching his teeth in frustration. “Are you going to stop me then?”
“... No. I am your Servant after all, but I promised Sakura to keep you safe as well, Shirou.”
That girl…
No, no, he could not just sit by without doing anything. Without saying anything else, he walked past Rider and ran into his shed. Taiga's confused voice could be heard from the living room as she saw him rushing outside. A few seconds later, the roaring sound of the motorcycle came from the shed, and Rider watched with a helpless sigh as her Master did exactly what she told Sakura would happen.
“Shirou! Don't drive so recklessly! What's gotten into that boy!? Is he finally in his rebellious faze, and going out to start a biker gang!? Eh? Who are you!?” Taiga, having noticed Rider walk to the living room, was stunned to see what was basically a stranger within the house. Rider wasted no time knocking out the older sister, making the woman fall unconscious. Carefully pulling her to a room, she dissipated into her spiritual form.
Regardless of what her Master planned to do, it was her duty to keep him safe.
.
.
.
-???-
While the boy rushed towards the Matou manor, Luvia, on the other hand, found herself dealing with a different scenario. Following faint clues and leads that in most cases brought her to dead ends, she wondered if this one was just another red herring that could potentially lead to an ambush.
“A-Another one!?”
“Quick, before sh—”
Though it seemed this one held some weight, especially when upon walking into the corridor, the first thing she ended up encountering were more of these henchmen, ordered to kill anyone entering this place on sight. Unfortunately for them, she only needed a single emerald gem to take down both of her attackers with just a mere flick of her wrist.
Interrogating them proved to be a pointless waste of time, for they were not even aware of the supernatural and the identity of their employer. Mindless grants whose only job was to keep people away, not that it worked against her.
“Another one?” She repeated those words, throwing a curious glance at her bodyguard, “Did we miss something, Clown?”
The tall dark dark-skinned man who was accompanying her shook his head, his job mostly being to search the bodies for any clues and get his hands dirty in her stead if things went pear-shaped. “If the stench of blood on the other side is an indication of anything, it's safe to assume that we are not the only ones who were following the clues. Then again, it's a high-paying mission.”
She continued down her path, using a few more gems to take care of other henchmen who tried to stop her. Those with guns were left stunned as their bullets even failed to penetrate Clown's suit, the latter coming forth to serve as a shield in this scenario. His method of dispatching them was more brutal than hers, using his hand to smash their heads down and even slamming a poor soul on the ground with enough force for a loud crack to be heard.
“Careful now, you almost got blood on me.” She said while using a fan to cover half of her face. “Honestly, how is Rin Tohsaka this blind to everything going on in this town as its Second Owner? With so many cockroaches scurrying around, surely she must have noticed something.”
Clown did not give her an answer, not that she expected to hear one from him. Instead, he hand-signed to her about something.
“Someone is fighting ahead.” He said with a gruff voice.
Luvia nodded and headed forward, holding several gems while pushing the door, which led her to a large room filled with several containers. In the middle of it all were more bodies belonging to those henchmen from before. A quick observation showed the cause of the carnage being something similar to how Clown took down those from before. Far more brutally, though, and with far more strength.
Bang!
Another sound came from the middle, a large man holding an odd tool resembling a glove. From which she saw a spell form, this one only lasting a couple of seconds before a hidden figure reached him and immediately squashed the mage’s hand before his throat was seized tightly.
“Speak now, where is Atrum?”
A feminine voice demanded, Luvia approaching the scene without hiding her presence—looking with slight amusement and curiosity at the magenta-haired woman in front of her. Wearing her standard Enforcer suit from the pictures she received, but this one was riddled with severely damaged parts and ruined fabrics. Not something that should have been possible from just these regular weapons or even simple spells… She must have gotten them a while ago.
The blonde smirked.
“Found you~”
2025-06-13 19:25:16 +0000 UTC
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2025-06-13 19:20:29 +0000 UTC
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2025-06-09 05:48:51 +0000 UTC
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Beta read by Shigiya and Darklord331
Next update is Hound.
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-Magnolia-
Safe to say, Lucy was not having a good day, in fact, this day could barely get any worse. What had started as a regular, mildly boring afternoon had turned into what practically amounted to an invasion.
"What the hell, where are all these mages coming from!?" she shouted, ducking as another blast of magic scorched past the alley she was hiding in.
Magnolia had been attacked, not by Vulcans or wild monsters from the mountains, but by a dark guild of all things, and not a subtle one. They’d practically marched into town like they owned it. The group had encountered one of the attackers earlier, and the identity of the woman they'd met left little room for comfort.
"So Ultear is behind it after all. This is worrisome," Makarov muttered, his voice clearly surprised by this news. “Yajima did mention how he felt odd about her at first before she won everyone's trust later on. Hm, guess he should have trusted his guts. Hah… what a mess.”
Once the truth had been extracted from the encounter, the team wasted no time. They sprinted back to the guild, Lucy out of breath by the time they reached the doors. Erza had been the first to report to Master Makarov, explaining everything: the mysterious attackers, their disturbing confidence, and Broly’s unexplained disappearance.
The old man had sobered instantly. The usual hint of a buzzed flush was gone from his face, replaced by deep lines of worry.
"What kind of dark guild would risk attacking Magnolia so openly?" he muttered, his voice low while scratching his nearly bald head. "This doesn’t make sense unless they’re ready to take on the entire Magic Council and its allies on their own. No other dark guild would throw their necks out like that. I’ve gotten no word from the other guilds about any movement from the Balam Alliance."
Lucy had the same questions. Whoever these people were, their boldness didn’t add up unless they had something dangerous up their sleeve. But figuring that out would have to wait since they needed to protect Magnolia first.
“What about Broly? He's still missing.” Cana added, feeling worried about him just like many around.
“He is not incapable of protecting himself. I trust the child and believe nothing bad will happen to him, first we need to deal with these idiots first and find him.”
"Master! There’s more of them appearing!" Nab shouted a voice from the hallway, bursting into the room, pointing toward the sky just outside of Magnolia.
Everyone turned, rushing to the windows or the guild doors. There, hanging like vultures in the clouds, were several large airships slowly descending. As they landed, waves of mages spilled out and began laying siege to the city.
Whatever this group was, subtlety was clearly not in their strategy.
"Whatever the case may be, whoever these people are and whatever they’re trying to find, it won’t come to fruition. All of you brats, listen carefully. This may be the only time I say this to all of you at once," Master Makarov barked, rising to his feet and slamming his fist against the table. The wood splintered and cracked beneath his strength despite his diminutive size.
"Who do these fools think they are? We are Fairy Tail, the number one guild, the strongest in all of Fiore! They dared to march to our doorstep and expect us not to respond?"
He raised his voice.
"What do you say about this!?"
"They’re idiots!" Macao shouted from the other end with Wakaba agreeing.
"I’ll burn them all to ashes!" another called, already gathering magic in his hands. No one needed to turn their heads to see who it was, none other than their local fire dragon slayer.
"I just packed my luggage to go on vacation! Damn it, I’ll kill them!"
“Fuck your vacation! All you do is get drunk here anyways!”
The room erupted. Shouts of fury and excitement rolled through the crowd like a wave. Makarov’s lips twitched into a grin, proud despite the chaos.
"So what are you waiting for, you fools? The enemy is here! As the hosts, it’s our job to welcome them properly. Let’s show them what Fairy Tail really means!"
He raised his hand high, the Fairy Tail emblem glowing on his arm. The guild roared in answer, dozens of arms rising to mirror him. The cheer that followed could have shaken the roof, if the spells outside hadn’t started doing that already.
"Just don’t destroy the entire town!" he added quickly. "If you go too far, we’ll go bankrupt and be left with no choice but to sell the entire building!"
That earned another cheer, though more than a few voices shouted that they couldn’t make any promises. It was the best response he could hope for.
The moment didn’t last.
The building began to shake violently, the wood and stone groaning from outside impacts. Dust rained from the rafters, and a few paintings crashed to the ground.
"Holy hell, they wasted no time!" Makarov cursed. "At this rate there will be no building to sell! What are you still standing here for, brats!? Go! Protect the guild! Every second you waste just adds more numbers to the repair bill!"
Lucy wasn’t sure how she felt about that last part, but she understood where he was coming from.
The hall that had once been full of laughter and drunken brawls was now unrecognisable. Gone were the sleepy dozes and petty arguments. In their place, mages surged forward with glowing spells, fire, wind, and shadow roaring past one another in a riot of colour. With wide, confident grins stretched across their faces, they looked less like mages here to protect their home and more like devils rising to answer a challenge — craving for blood.
Natsu leading the group while spewing fire out of his mouth did not help with that image.
Another figure blurred past her. Lucy turned just in time to catch Erza soaring into the air, her body glowing with white-hot light as her voice rang out like a war cry.
"Equip, Heaven's Wheel Armour!"
In a flash, her plain grey chestplate and blue skirt vanished, replaced entirely by gleaming silver armour. Plates shaped like feathers fanned out from her shoulders and back, reflecting sunlight like shards of a shattered star. Swords, dozens of them, floated around her in a hypnotic, whirling dance, each one spinning into position with the precision of a master conductor directing a deadly orchestra.
With a single gesture, they launched. Blades rained down like a silver storm, targeting every black-robed mage foolish enough to charge toward Magnolia’s heart. Screams and flashes of magic filled the air as her blades cut paths through the invaders with grace the blonde hoped to match at one point in the future.
She was so freaking cool!
"I cannot fall behind," Lucy muttered to herself, shaking off the hesitation that had been clinging to her like fog. She bit her lip, drew in a breath, and thrust her key forward.
"Open! Gate of the Golden Bull, Taurus!"
The gate to the Celestial Spirit World flared open, golden and radiant. From within stepped a massive figure: half-man, half-bull, towering and muscular with thick fur and a ring through his nose. The axe slung over his shoulder gleamed wickedly.
"Uoooh! I’ll do my best to protect your magnificent boobs from these degenerates, Lucy!"
She flinched, already bracing for the inevitable comments and unconsciously covering her own chest.
"You are the degenerate I need protection from!" she snapped, her face flushed. But deep down, she couldn’t deny the comfort she felt at the sight of the old reliable brute standing at her side. For all his perverted remarks, Taurus rarely failed her in battle.
With a roar, he launched himself into the fray, swinging his axe in mighty arcs that sent dark mages flying in all directions. Each step he took shook the ground. The sight of him cutting down enemy after enemy drew the attention of several guildmates mid-fight.
"Holy crap, no wonder she hangs out with Erza and Broly, she's got summons that look like monsters!”
“I thought she was his girlfriend he brings along everywhere. You know, eye candy to lift the spirit.”
“She can be both.”
"Is that thing her summoned Celestial Spirit? And why does it keep talking about her boobs!?"
"Who would've thought Lucy had that kind of fetish?"
"Oh, shut up!" she barked, mortified, cheeks burning hotter than Natsu’s fire. "I don’t have a fetish! Taurus is just a pervert who keeps saying nonsense, that’s all!"
Embarrassing as it was, the momentary attention didn’t last. Lucy turned her focus back to the battlefield. Even with Taurus carving a path forward, she had to keep her wits about her, these mages weren’t amateurs. She managed to fend off a few attackers with her whip and dodge a few attacks, but compared to Erza, Natsu, and Gray, who were tearing through the enemy like a hurricane, she felt like she was wading through molasses.
Wendy, too, that girl was practically creating tornadoes in the middle of the battlefield! On top of that, delivering healing and support while simultaneously launching even more powerful gusts that toppled foes like matchsticks. It was awe-inspiring, and more than a little frustrating how someone as young as her was this capable.
She’d accepted long ago that there was a gap between her strength and theirs, especially after living alongside Broly. Still, facing it in the middle of a war zone was jarring.
"Watch out, Lucy!"
"Eh!"
The shout snapped her attention back, but it was too late. A blast of energy streaked toward her, its glow pulsing, crackling, unavoidable. Taurus was too far, overwhelmed on the other side of the field.
She had no time to summon another Spirit. No time to run.
But then, a burst of golden light flared in front of her. A fist collided with the energy sphere mid-air, shattering it like glass. The very next second, arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her into the air, leaping them both out of harm’s way.
The landing was rough, but controlled. They landed behind a chunk of collapsed stone wall, just out of enemy line of sight. Lucy blinked the stars out of her eyes, heart still hammering.
"L-Loke?"
The name slipped from her lips, disbelief plain in her voice. She stared up at the face of her rescuer, his usual sly grin in place, his amber eyes gleaming with mischief and something else. Concern, maybe?
"You need to be more careful, Lucy," he said, chastising her with that maddeningly smooth tone of his. "A capable Celestial Spirit Mage knows better than to charge headlong into a battlefield. That’s what they're here for."
"Sorry," she said quickly, embarrassed and slightly breathless. "I got distracted. It won’t happen again."
She meant it. As much as she’d been worried about everyone else, especially Broly, she’d forgotten how vulnerable she could be. That could’ve easily been her last mistake.
"It’s fine," he replied, waving it off. "As long as you don’t make it a habit. Still… this is quite the messy situation, don’t you think?"
Lucy exhaled shakily, then looked up at the darkened skies and the chaos ripping through Magnolia.
"Yeah," she muttered. "Messy doesn’t even begin to cover it. Feels like we're fighting off an entire army.”
“Why would anyone attack us head-on like this?" The man asked, his voice filled with confusion.
The battlefield around Magnolia was still echoing with explosions and elemental spells, and they were managing to push back against them. With Erza and Natsu on the front line, Mirajane staying at the guild to keep it safe and Master watching the battle from the bar… it was highly unlikely for them to get overwhelmed.
"It must be because of what happened to the Oración Seis," she went on, brow furrowing. "Maybe one of the other dark guilds panicked after seeing what we did to them and decided to go all out before it’s too late. But even then, this doesn’t feel like a smart move. They’ve seen what Fairy Tail can do… they’ve seen we’re the ones gaining ground, not the other way around."
Beside her, Loke stepped forward, eyes glinting with a seriousness that cut through the usual mischief on his face.
"If I had to take a guess, this whole thing feels like a distraction," he said quietly.
Lucy froze. Her eyes widened, and her breath caught as his words echoed something she had felt but hadn’t been able to put into words. Especially when she recalled what Ultear kept saying about Broly, the woman having tried to approach him before when he was first imprisoned according to Erza.
Behind them, Erza, Gray, and the others were still locked in an intense battle, focused on preventing the enemy forces from getting deeper into Magnolia. The main group of dark mages had been keeping them occupied, but this wasn't the main event.
"Listen, Loke… I think I know what's really happening. They're not trying to destroy the guild. They're trying to get to Broly, to have him join them or get rid of him — I can't tell. This is a distraction that happened right after he went missing earlier today."
"Broly?" Loke’s expression sharpened. "That’s not good. Do you know a way we can find him? We can regroup with the others and go to him. He shouldn’t be alone if they’re targeting him."
She appreciated his quick offer, truly, and it warmed her chest in the middle of all the chaos. But her heart sank again almost immediately, because she didn’t know. She had no idea where Broly could be at that moment.
And that made her stomach twist.
Until a certain face flashed into her mind, one that made her grimace instinctively. Her entire expression soured before she even realized it, and Loke noticed immediately.
"What? Did an idea just occur to you?"
Lucy hesitated. She did not want to say it, but there was no other option, calling it a good idea would be a stretch but it was the best one she had at the moment.
"I think I know someone who could track him down and lead us to him. But... she’s likely to cause more damage than these dark mages ever could." The girl whispered silently, “And well… I am ninety nine percent sure she is super pissed at me.”
Loke raised an eyebrow, clearly curious now.
Aquarius had not taken kindly to being summoned less frequently lately. Lucy had made the conscious decision to give Broly some space, not that she had much of a choice, considering how much time he spent with the other girls in the guild. It was getting harder to find moments with him alone. And calling Aquarius would just add fuel to the fire and rob her of any chances to just relax with the two of them… and Cana as well.
Still, now wasn’t the time to worry about that. His safety came before anything else. Even if it meant dealing with a furious celestial spirit who might try to drown her mid-battle.
"It’s fine," Loke said with a casual shrug. "Master might be overdramatizing the damage, but I’ve seen the guild’s vault with my own eyes. There’s enough Jewels in there to rebuild all of Magnolia if it comes to that. Sure, he might lose what little hair he’s got left from the stress, but I think he’d much rather see everyone come back alive than stare at a full treasury."
There was a grin on his face now, not forced or flirtatious, just natural, easy. Even surrounded by chaos and on the verge of another fight, Loke’s charm came through. She understood now why so many girls in the guild were drawn to him, it wasn’t just the looks, it was the warmth.
"Are you trying to flirt with me?" Lucy asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
He went pale instantly and waved his hands in defense.
"No, no, not at all! I swear! I was just saying... you know... helpful stuff! Total misunderstanding!" Loke said hastily, waving his arms like a man trying to swat away the very idea. "So, who is this person? We need to find her as soon as possible and save our friend!"
The blonde raised an eyebrow but chose not to press the matter. She gave a short nod, deciding she could be suspicious later.
"Follow me!" she said firmly, reaching for her keys. "Taurus!"
She called him back, the latter running towards her with a face full of tears and dismay.
"Uuuuuuuuh! I am not worthy!" he howled, collapsing to his knees in front of her. "I almost let Lucy’s amazingly soft breast get hurt by one of those vile mages! Please forgive me! I deserve to be punished! I deserve to be punished for failing to protect you!"
Her entire body flushed with embarrassment. Her hands shot up to shield her face, groaning audibly as several nearby Fairy Tail members cast her awkward glances — especially Loke. So much for looking composed and dependable in front of others. Here she was, trying to take charge in the middle of an invasion, and Taurus was making her look like a walking joke.
Taurus’s wailing halted just as suddenly as it began. His eyes had finally caught sight of the orange-haired man behind Lucy, who was standing with his back slightly turned, pretending to inspect something incredibly interesting in the opposite direction. A puzzled look crossed the Celestial Spirit's face.
"Ah... it’s been a long time, L, "
Before he could finish, a sharp flash of gold shimmered again as Lucy hastily unsummoned him, her face now deep crimson. She didn’t want to hear whatever nonsense Taurus was about to say next, especially not with Loke around. Behind her, Loke exhaled in quiet relief, muttering a silent thank-you to whoever was listening.
"Let’s go!" she said quickly.
They ran through the partially ruined streets of Magnolia. Most of the townspeople had taken shelter in their homes, boarding up windows and locking doors while the Fairy Tail guild held the front lines. The dark mages were being held back, corralled into one area of the city where the strongest of Fairy Tail could deal with them all at once.
"There!" Lucy pointed ahead, her voice breaking through the thrum of distant spells. A large fountain stood in the center of a courtyard, still untouched by the battle. She ran toward it with this being her main gateway to summoning Aquarius.
Loke looked confused at first but then blinked, the realization dawning on him slowly.
"Um, Lucy... just who exactly is this person you said could track Broly?"
"You’ll see her soon," Lucy replied, slowing to a walk as they approached the water. "Just... don’t mind anything she says or even so much as try to flirt with her — she may skin you alive like that one Vulcan. Her words can be pretty hurtful, though I doubt she’ll be interested in you as long as you stay out of her way. But, if she gets super angry at me, I recommend running. Fast. Unless you want to get caught up in the flood too."
"Ah," realization reached his face upon seeing a certain key hanging around her waist. “She sounds like quite the character, hahaha…”
"Humph, that's one way to say it. She claims to be Broly’s girlfriend, even though the only reason he agreed to that was because he was unfamiliar with the term and she took advantage of that." Lucy muttered, half under her breath. "Says it helps her stay linked to him or something. It’s weird."
Loke blinked again, brow furrowed. "Girlfriend? Broly? Those two... together, huh? Wasn't she and Scorpio…" he whispered to himself, though Lucy didn’t hear. Her focus was now entirely on the water in front of them.
"Alright. Here goes nothing."
Her fingers closed around the golden key hanging from her key ring. With a deep breath, she stepped closer to the edge of the fountain, held the key high, then dipped it into the water while shutting her eyes tightly.
"Gate of Aquarius, I open thee!"
A surge of golden light burst forth from the surface of the fountain, momentarily blinding Lucy. Loke squinted beside her, shielding his eyes with one hand, his eyes twitching the moment he saw the being who appeared before then in a rather theatrical way.
The fountain shuddered. The water swelled into a towering column, shooting skyward like a geyser before it collapsed in a mighty downpour that sent ripples racing across the stone.
From the center of the cascade, a graceful form emerged. Slender arms cut effortlessly through the water. Long, flowing strands of blue hair trailed behind her like seaweed in a current with some sticking on her chest covered by a simple blue bikini. She swam with elegance, circling slowly as her glowing eyes began to open.
Aquarius rose from the depths, her gaze gentle at first before they turned cold upon spotting the two of them, taking in the nearly abandoned square with disinterest. In the distance, the sound of battle still rumbled through the air like thunder on the horizon. Her attention once more fell upon the two people standing before her, one she knew far too well.
The first figure to appear made her eyes widen, just for a moment. Her stare lingered briefly on the man’s face before she looked away, her expression settling into something unreadable. Not a word escaped her lips, though the silence itself felt heavier than any greeting. Then, slowly, her gaze shifted again, this time landing on Lucy.
The blonde had already started inching backwards, retreating as quietly as she could, as though willing herself to vanish into thin air. Her shoulders were stiff, movements awkward, her face twisted into a sheepish smile.
“How many days has it been, brat?” Aquarius’s voice was calm, but Lucy flinched the instant she heard it.
She had known that tone. After years of summoning the Celestial Spirit, Lucy could read her moods almost too well. And this one was far from friendly. The blue-haired spirit didn’t look happy. She didn’t sound happy either. In fact, she looked furious.
“Hahaha…” Lucy laughed weakly, trying to maintain composure despite the lump of panic forming in her throat. “You see, we’ve just been really busy lately. I’ve mostly been taking on small odd jobs, things where bringing you along would’ve been overkill. I didn’t want to waste your time on small fry who weren’t even, ”
“Water Tsunami!”
“Why!?”
Lucy’s protest came too late. Aquarius didn’t bother waiting for explanations. With a swift motion, she raised her urn and pointed it directly at the trembling blonde. A deafening roar followed as a monstrous wave erupted from the mouth of the vessel, a rolling mass of water crashing down with the fury of a storm.
It wasn’t just a splash. It was a deluge.
An ocean’s worth of water burst forth, swallowing the town square in an instant. A massive wave surged through the streets, smashing through crates, barrels, and food stalls as if they were paper. In seconds, half the town was submerged, transformed into a makeshift lake. The force was so sudden, even the other Fairy Tail mages and the opposing dark mages were caught completely off guard, yanked off their feet and swept away into the flood along with a few houses caught in the flood.
“Waaaah!” Lucy cried, completely overwhelmed. The water surged around her in all directions, and she had no control over her limbs. The current was too strong, the surface too wild to swim through. She flailed for something, anything, but could only let the water carry her.
“Haha… your friend’s got quite the temper, doesn’t she?” came a relaxed voice beside her.
She turned her head, wide-eyed, to see Loke drifting next to her on a broken piece of wood, lounging like he was enjoying a day at sea. Somehow, his clothes were untouched by the water, not a single strand of his orange hair out of place.
“A little help here!?” Lucy spluttered, still half-drowned and completely soaked.
Rather than lend a hand, Loke simply gave her an apologetic shrug and pointed past her shoulder. Confused, Lucy twisted her neck, and froze.
A hand had grabbed her collar.
Her heart skipped a beat.
She was lifted halfway out of the water, and as she turned her head, her breath hitched in her throat. Staring back at her were two piercing blue eyes, narrowed with deadly intensity. The air around them turned cold as Aquarius’s killing aura prickled along Lucy’s skin like static.
“You have ten seconds,” the spirit said, voice as steady as steel. “Seven seconds have already passed since I asked my question.”
“What question!?” Lucy shouted, though it came out more as a choke. Between the roar of rushing water and the whiplash of being lifted so suddenly, she hadn’t caught a word. But she knew better than to argue. Talking back to Aquarius was about as smart as hugging an active volcano. There was only one thing left to do, find a way to calm her down and convince her to help.
“It’s Broly!” she blurted out, desperately. “I think the attack here was just a distraction! The real target’s him. They sent stronger mages to capture him while the rest of us were stuck fighting in town! I don’t know where he is, but I thought maybe you could—waaaaah!”
The next second, Lucy was nothing more than a blur. Water and wind smashed against her face as she was yanked forward at incredible speed. Aquarius had taken off like a rocket, her body gliding just above the surface as her urn continued spewing even more water ahead of them, flooding everything in their path. Buildings were left behind in seconds, rooftops shrinking as they surged beyond the town’s edge.
“You idiot!” The blue haired Celestial Spirit snapped, the wind whipping her hair into a trail behind her. “You should have told me that sooner! What is with you and wasting my time with nonsense!?”
She would have told her earlier, had the woman not nearly assassinated her, by drowning her alive.
Lucy was still dripping and sputtering from the initial onslaught, holding onto Aquarius's arm for dear life as the water spirit continued to tear through the flooded outskirts. Meanwhile, Loke had adapted with remarkable ease. Perched atop a large slab of driftwood, he had taken to the surging waves like a pro surfer, cutting across the current with practiced balance and flair. A broad, amused grin lit up his face as he caught up to them.
“Hahaha! Lucy, I think you just broke the record for most property damage in Magnolia. You even beat Natsu! That’s got to count for something!” he called out, riding the wave with surprising elegance. “You have my respect, should help you get a cool title.”
“That’s not something I want to be proud of!” she shouted back, her voice tight with guilt.
The first thing that came to her mind was the look on the old man’s face, Master Makarov, watching his beloved guild’s hometown half-submerged. She winced, hoping he hadn’t seen the full extent of it. Still, part of her was quietly thankful. Aquarius, despite her dramatic flair, had only aimed the water in one direction. If she had wanted to, Lucy was certain she could have flooded the entire city.
In fact, of all the celestial spirits in her keyring, Aquarius was the strongest by far. Even Broly had agreed on that much. Lucy had a feeling the woman worked hard to keep that title secure, perhaps even more than she let on.
“Speaking of overkill…” Aquarius muttered as she glanced sideways at tag along with the group. Her eyes narrowed the moment she spotted Loke gliding along the water beside them.
“Tch. I can handle this myself.”
She didn’t slow down to argue. If anything, she swam faster.
Loke, ever unfazed, gave her a casual shrug and kept pace without a word, his orange hair glinting under the sunlight that filtered through the moving curtain of mist and spray. As they left the last rooftops of Magnolia behind, the water began to thin, draining off into surrounding streams. Aquarius shifted direction, still swimming like a missile approaching a dense forest at the edge of the region.
Lucy could tell they were heading somewhere unfamiliar. The ground below disappeared beneath layers of tree roots, then hills. The forest gave way to a broken path of fallen trees and scorched brush, evidence of a recent battle. Far ahead, smoke rose in the sky, curling above the treetops.
Her eyes widened at the sight of a ship resting on its side in the distance. It was already beginning to implode, metal screeching as internal supports gave way. The hull cracked with a great groan, followed by an explosive puff of flame as it collapsed into the ground below.
“Broly’s not there,” Aquarius said flatly, as if reading her summoner's mind.
Without pause, she changed course and continued forward. More trees passed beneath them. The air grew thick with tension. Then they burst out into a clearing so wide it looked like a crater, with torn-up soil and shattered trees forming a rough ring around the edges.
In the centre of it all, a tall figure slowly descended from the sky.
Lucy’s breath caught in her throat.
Broly landed lightly on the torn ground, muscles tense and brows furrowed, clearly deep in his thoughts. But as his gaze fell on the approaching trio, his expression shifted in an instant, confusion giving way to surprise, and then unmistakable warmth.
“Broly…” Lucy whispered, beginning to lift her hand.
“Broly!”
Aquarius’s voice drowned hers out completely.
Lucy didn’t even have time to react before she was tossed aside like an old sack. She landed on her backside with a painful thump, sliding a few feet across the muddy ground.
“Oof!”
Groaning, she sat up and watched helplessly as Aquarius launched herself forward and all but pounced on Broly. Her arms looped tightly around his neck, her long hair wrapping behind them like a wave, and her fish-like tail curled around his waist in a tight embrace.
“We finally get to see one another again! Have you missed me? Because I have missed you!”
She wasted no time to gently push her lips against his, clinging to him with the full force of her affection, leaving Lucy to sit off to the side, soaked, bruised, and feeling like a completely forgotten third wheel.
Loke caught up a moment later, floating to a halt beside her with an amused hum. “Well… at least someone’s happy.”
{Break}
His fight against Hades did not feel like an actual victory in any way. Even though this time he did not kill the man with his own hands, the fact that their battle still led to his death clung to his conscience especially when he recalled the promise he made to the master.
Did it still stand?
Had he done enough? Could he have changed the outcome? Trying to talk things out with the old man in a different way? It frustrated him how he already knew the answer, that nothing would have changed, convincing others with words was never his strong suit compared to Lucy, Erza and even Cana.
He was unable to understand the drive that pushed Hades this far, willing to sacrifice his own life just so he could have him live in regret and follow the same path as he had. All of these questions swarmed around his mind that came to a complete halt when he saw the group approaching him.
“Ah, Aquarius.”
He had sensed her arrival a while ago, making him less worried as he knew the woman would keep Lucy and everyone else safe. And he was proven right upon seeing the blonde being carried by her collar. She had no bruises as far as he could see but he was confused with Luke's presence.
Wasn't he afraid of Lucy and always trying to avoid her?
“Broly!”
Aquarius wasted no time in closing the distance between them, feeling her arms wrap around him along with her tail, the woman's lips meeting his where he managed to taste a faint presence of strawberry. She must have been snacking on those before getting summoned.
As for the kiss itself, he had no particular thought about it, just glad that it made her feel happy. Having done so many times in the past, something that Aquarius called it a normal show of affection between people who cared for one another deeply.
It was only later did he learn from Gretel that there was more to that and such things only happened between couples, but he said nothing and let her do as she pleased. It was not hurting him in any way, quite the opposite as he also felt a warm feeling course through his body whenever she did so. So he was also guilty of enjoying it a bit.
“Hahaha, it has been a while since I last saw you, and yes, I have also missed you and so has Lucy.” He answered, only getting a scarf response from the woman.
“Oh please, if that were the case then I would be summoned everyday yet that little minx tried to keep me away from you. Why should I really teach her a lesson!” She said, before turning her head around to stare back at Lucy. “This time I'm staying around for a couple of days, if you dare to close the gate I swear next time we meet I'll spank your ass hard enough that it will stay red for the next ten years!”
“W-What!?” Lucy exclaimed in horror, not just at the punishment itself, but rather Aquarius’ previous statement. “I don't think I can keep a gate active for this long! Wouldn't that take a toll on me?”
Her worries were immediately dismissed, “Oh please, I have trained you enough that you can summon more than one Celestial Spirit, keeping me around for a few days will not harm you in any way. As long as I don't stay around for too long and invite trouble on myself.”
Loke shifted around at the last part.
“In any case, we have so much to catch up on, I have so many stories to tell you and I want to share everything that happened while I was away.”
He nodded, that was also something he wanted to do sooner or later. “There is quite a lot. I also met new people and made a few friends. You should meet Cana, you'll definitely like her.”
“Another woman?” At that, Aquarius's eyes immediately narrowed as she looked back at him, but her reaction only earned an innocent expression from him which showed nothing but confusion. Not having the heart to say anything else, she forced a smile on her face.
“S-Sure… I am more than happy to meet this friend of yours…”
Even though she tried her best to come up he could hear there was some reluctance in her tone, but she would see for herself, Broly was certain that those two would get along very well. Whenever he spoke with Cana, she would, at times, remind him of Aquarius.
“In any case, we should go back to the guild.” He said, about to head back only to come to a complete stop upon sensing another presence nearby. “You're here. Stop hiding.”
He called her out, from the forest Ultear’s figure emerged with a few cuts on her body.
‘She must have met Erza…’ for her to have survived and only suffered minor injuries at best spoke volumes at how powerful this woman was or rather at how tricky her magic was.
“Tch, these harlots just keep popping out everywhere.” Aquarius was not happy to see her, not even knowing who this person was she still showed clear hostility against the black haired woman but did not attempt to attack her.
Ultear watched the aftermath of the battle with shock in her eyes, “What… What happened to Master Hades?” She asked calmly, looking back at him waiting for an answer which he gave without wasting a second.
“He's dead.”
A silence fell onto his surroundings, Lucy looking back at him with worry but he reassured her by flashing a small smile. Though Aquarius and Loke did not seem to react much or even care for that matter, instead keeping their guard up the entire time against the newcomer.
“Impossible.” Ultear immediately denied his words, shaking her head and surveying her surroundings as if to find the old man.
“I’m… sorry. I did not wish things to go this far but he—”
“Lies!” Once more, Ultear denied his words with a shout. “Master Hades cannot be killed! As long as the Devil's Heart continues to beat, he is immortal! Even if you possess an incredible amount of energy, that alone cannot kill him!”
“You're right.” He said, “but he was the one who chose to die, I just… make sure his actions would not kill others.”
He had no idea what this devil heart was in the first place, but it did not matter in the end for its user had already perished. Seeing the girl get more agitated, he began to realise that there was a possibility of her engaging him in combat once again. He clenched his fists, still frustrated at what happened just now, if things were to continue down the same path then he…
“You don't have to fight me.” He tried to reason with her. “I don't know what you want, I don't have much to offer, but it is not worth your life. You can just leave and we can be done with this, please I beg you.”
Several emotions appeared on her face, shifting from both denial, anger, disbelief and so on.
Still, he continued. “I don't know what your goal is and what she promised you. But whatever it is, I am sure Fairy Tail can help you achieve that.”
“The One Magic,” the girl cut him off, staring back with complex emotions swirling in her eyes. “For all that power you have, can you honestly tell me to my face that you can achieve The One Magic?”
“...You too?” At first he believed that this desire to achieve such a thing was only shared by the old man with how zealous he had been about it. Ultear on the other hand, even though they had only met a handful of times, did not give him the oppression that she was searching for the same thing.
Unless…
“Do you want to achieve The One Magic, or are you hoping that this magic will help you attain one of your goals?” He said, getting no answers from her which made him realise that perhaps this was the case after all. “I don't know what it is, but it is not necessarily something that can only be achieved through that method Hades was searching for. There can be other ways, if you can just tell me, maybe I can help?”
“Help?” The girl chuckled, through her eyes held no happiness whatsoever. “You speak so optimistically, you speak as if my problems can be solved so easily by just joining Fairy Tail — but that is not the case. I know full well that what I search for cannot be accomplished so easily. Without Master Hades… we will never find Zeref.”
“Zeref?” That name earned several reactions from those around him.
“Hah…” Ultear sighed, having regained her composure. “No, I cannot just let go of this so easily. Even without master Hades, I'll find a way.”
“Wait,” Broly tried to stop her, whatever path she was going to take, whatever decision she came to make, all of them gave him a bad feeling not for the safety of his friends but the possibility that she would end up following a similar fate to the old man.
Ultear's sphere started to glow brightly, everyone about to attack her while he held out his hands hoping to stop them.
Woosh!
Yet he was too slow, a surge of magic came from another direction entirely, crashing on the ground around Ultear, breaking the earth itself into cubes along with her figure which much to his surprise, broke down into shards of glass and light.
‘How… I was certain I sensed her Ki.’ He wondered, realizing that the woman must have done something to trick him from the beginning. Perhaps planning to escape even if he tried to stop her.
“Shit, a thought projection? Doesn't look like it. Hate those things.” A gruff voice came from the forest on the other side, where the group turned to see a tall man walk out with a large cloak covering his figure and face. Holding on to a small bag on his shoulders with strands of brown hair peeking down the hood.
The person approached Lucy, Broly did not sense any hostile intent from him so he was not worried about him trying to hurt her. Extending his hand to help her back on her feet and flashing a smile.
“Hey there beautiful, mind helping me out a bit? I was trying to find my way to Magnolia and since a fight was going on here and now I'm lost. Let's go back together, I'll treat you to a meal as thanks, that's a promise.”
2025-06-06 07:56:30 +0000 UTC
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Beta read by FabledLife and Opal.
Next update is Broly which will be updated in... 5 mins.
-Midchilda, Riot Force 6 Base-
Things had not been going well for Nanoha lately.
First came the invasion of Midchilda. Jail Scaglietti had been brazen enough to speak openly about his plans and the growing army of drones under his command. The aftermath was still a mess, the damage substantial, and the repairs ongoing. But this, this went far beyond anything he had attempted before.
Her face showed only solemn focus, but beneath it, her chest simmered with a quiet storm of anxiousness and restrained anger. Her only goal now was to find Shirou — alive.
The attack had occurred in the 15th District in the dead of night, and the footage that should have captured the kidnapping had been, as she clenched her fists, erased.
"Erased?" Nanoha echoed, her voice showing hints of anger with restrained frustration. A few around her looked up, startled by her tone. "How is that even possible? Who has the authority, or the capability, to do something like that?"
She didn’t expect a satisfying answer. Her question hung in the air for a while without anyone able to say anything, going completely unanswered. It earned her only shifting eyes and awkward silence from the officers around her.
“Nanoha-chan.”
The voice came gently, paired with a hand resting lightly on her shoulder. She turned slightly, eyes meeting Fate’s calm but tired expression. Lutecia stood quietly beside her, holding her, holding the blonde's hand, head lowered. She looked paler than usual, the vibrant spark that once danced in her eyes noticeably dulled, as if something inside had been dimmed since the moment of Shirou’s disappearance.
It reminded both women of the time they first encountered the young girl. This time she looked with the clear dark circles around her eyes, having not slept since his disappearance.
“Any news on your end?” Nanoha asked.
Fate slowly shook her head. “I tried everything,” she said quietly. “But it’s as if they vanished without leaving a trace. We’ve deployed multiple patrols and double-checked every angle from the satellite footage... still, nothing. It’s almost as if...” she began, but her voice trailed off.
“...someone’s deliberately deleting everything,” Hayate finished grimly, her voice reaching both of them.
Even speaking the possibility aloud left a bitter taste in their mouths. If it were true, it meant there was a traitor among them. But accusations without proof, especially within the Bureau, could spark chaos. And the worst part was, she had no idea who it could be. So many of the senior officials had, at one point or another, worked alongside or investigated Jail.
Any of them could be compromised.
“We can’t give up,” Nanoha said at last, her tone resolute. “There has to be something, some clue we’ve missed.”
Still, her heart refused to settle. It pounded in her chest with a pressure she couldn’t quite explain. Of course, Shirou was strong, skillful even when it came to battle. Whatever Jail’s intentions were, she doubted he’d be captured without a fight — the dried-up blood left on the scene was proof enough. She knew he was alive, but was unable to provide a reason as to where this certainty came from.
“I’m worried about him too, Nanoha-chan,” Fate said softly. “Don't blame yourself for this. I was with him before the incident and should have kept a closer eye on him.”
“No, you're not at fault, you couldn't have known.” Then she glanced at Lutecia, who had remained mostly silent since they’d arrived.
“I hope you don’t mind me bringing her,” Fate added. “After everything that’s happened... I just didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone in that apartment. It’s too risky.”
“No, it’s a good idea,” Nanoha said without hesitation.
Whoever Jail had sent had managed to breach their city’s security, snatch someone off the very streets, and disappear without a single camera recording it. That wasn’t just power, it was planning. Precision.
“We promise we’ll bring him back,” Nanoha said, kneeling slightly so she could meet Lutecia’s eyes. “That’s my promise to you.”
The girl said nothing, but her eyes flickered up to meet Nanoha’s for a moment, just a moment, and something in them shifted, which made the girl nod silently.
Nanoha stood again, glancing at Fate as an idea began to form in her mind. No solid leads yet, but perhaps... just perhaps, there was still a thread left to follow.
She looked down at Lutecia again, more certain than before.
"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? Back when you still were with Jail... did you ever know where his base of operations might have been located?" Nanoha asked, her voice sounding as gentle as possible so as not to suddenly make the young girl misunderstand something. “Even if it's something small or irrelevant could help us find him much faster.”
Lutecia hesitated, her brows furrowing in thought. A few seconds passed before she gave a small, definitive shake of her head.
"Not really," she admitted. "We were always transported inside the base directly by one of the Numbers. We never really got to see the outside since there were no windows, so underground, maybe, but I can't be sure. Even then, at times, it felt like we were jumping to different locations each time. It was like the whole facility constantly moved."
"So it's a mobile base," Fate said quietly beside her, her arms folded as she exchanged a glance with Nanoha. “Would explain how he keeps evading us.”
That single conclusion alone made Nanoha’s stomach twist unpleasantly. A mobile base meant unpredictability. It meant tracking the doctor would be like chasing smoke in a storm. She frowned deeply, already feeling the pressure building behind her temples.
"Those drones that attacked Midchilda didn’t just materialize from nothing," Hayate added suddenly. Her voice reached all three of them, her eyes still fixed on the glowing monitor in front of her. The screen bathed her face in an artificial light that couldn’t hide the exhaustion written across it. "I've been running scans through every trace signature we've collected. I managed to isolate a sector in the outer area where the initial readings were picked up. It's not precise, but it gives us something to start with. You should head there and see if anything stands out."
Hayate, like the rest of them, had been buried in this operation since the news of Shirou’s disappearance had first reached them. None of them had slept. The entire command center was running on caffeine, worry, and sheer determination.
"I will," Nanoha replied, her voice leaving no room for doubt.
The moment the words left her mouth, she was already heading toward the door, but Fate’s footsteps followed closely behind. Nanoha paused, glancing back with a questioning look.
"You don’t seriously think I’m going to let you go out there alone, do you?" Fate said, raising an eyebrow.
Nanoha gave a tired, appreciative smile.
"I figured you’d say that. But you know I can handle this. Besides, someone has to stay here with Lutecia… I’m not convinced it’s safe to leave her unattended. Jail’s Numbers have already proven they can infiltrate Midchilda’s very streets without being noticed."
Her eyes flicked toward purple purple-haired girl, her small frame almost blending into the shadows near the wall. There was a hollow stillness in her expression that hadn’t lifted since the night everything went wrong.
"You also have Vivio to think about," she added softly.
"That’s already been taken care of," Fate replied without missing a beat, her tone calm and ready as if she had predicted this entire exchange.
At the end of the corridor, the soft sound of footsteps echoed against the tiled floor. Both women turned toward the noise. A moment later, Erio and Caro appeared, walking hand-in-hand with a small, blonde girl who lit up the moment she saw them.
"Mama!" Vivio called out cheerfully as she ran up and hugged Fate’s leg.
"I asked them to stay with her," Fate explained, ruffling the little one's hair. "They’ll be here with Hayate if anything happens. Subaru and Teana are also nearby. They’re on alert in case the doctor launches another drone assault on the city."
"Leaving only the two of them to manage that kind of threat..." Nanoha hesitated, her voice trailing off.
She didn’t doubt Subaru or Teana’s skill, far from it. Both were experienced, well-trained, and sharp in a fight. But facing down an unknown number of drones and potentially another strike on the capital was a tall order. Nanoha simply couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at her.
"They’re more than capable," Fate said firmly. "You’ve seen the data from their recent combat drills. They might not be SS-ranked mages like us yet, but their growth is undeniable. And don’t forget, Chrono is still here, and Hayate isn’t leaving her post either."
Nanoha gave a slow nod.
"You're right. I know… you're right."
Even so, a voice in the back of her mind whispered about worst-case scenarios. She was confident in her own power, and she trusted Fate’s judgment completely, but if Shirou was still alive—and she believed he was—then there was every chance she’d find him surrounded, injured, or worse. If she went alone and things turned bad, she might not be able to protect both of them at once.
That was something she couldn’t risk.
"Then let’s go," she said finally, her voice stronger now, steadied by her resolve.
"Please bring Shirou back..." Lutecia's voice was small, but it carried. She stood near the edge of the room, her violet eyes fixed on the two women as they moved swiftly toward the exit. Fate turned back briefly and offered her a thumbs-up, her confident smile meant to reassure the girl that they would return with the redhead safe and sound.
"Raising Heart Set Up!!"
The moment they stepped beyond the outer gates of the city, the shift in atmosphere was immediate. Due to certain rules, only certain areas permitted mages to activate their barrier jackets. Deployment of devices within civilian-populated sectors was strictly prohibited unless emergency protocols were activated or direct authorization was granted from top-level command.
Fortunately, Hayate’s orders had secured that clearance. Neither Nanoha nor Fate hesitated. As their devices activated with a familiar, crystalline hum, they launched into the sky, two bright streaks of light cutting through the clouds, soaring over the ocean with pinpoint precision toward the sector where the drone signatures had last been traced.
"Have we gotten anything from the other departments?" Nanoha asked once they reached cruising altitude, her voice sharp through the wind.
"We’ve tried tracking Ruben again," Fate answered. "But nothing’s come up. It’s almost certain that something is jamming or suppressing the signal. Either that, or the device has been moved into an isolated zone outside communicative range, or… someone destroyed it."
That last part made her heart freeze up for a second, a chill crawling up her spine.
"Then we can’t waste time," Nanoha said. With a sudden burst of mana, she surged ahead, the trail of her flight spell lighting up the sky. Fate followed close behind, matching her pace.
The flight didn't take long; at the speeds they traveled, they were faster than the most advanced fighter jets found on Earth. Below them, the ocean became a blue blur, the landmass on the horizon drawing closer with each second. Only the brilliant blue sky above and the endless waters beneath remained stable as the world around them melted into motion lines.
Fate, who had been watching her friend closely this entire time, finally broke the silence. “Nanoha… do you… Perhaps have feelings for Shirou?”
“Uh?”
The question kind of came out of nowhere, nearly making Nanoha lose focus and plummet from the sky. Giving an incredulous look at her friend, “Where did that come from?”
Her anxiety momentarily forgotten and instead replaced with confusion, she waited to get an answer, only for Fate to shake her head. “... Never mind, I don't think now is the best time for me to bring this up.”
Without adding anything, she burst forth and left Nanoha behind, the latter of which stared back at her friend's retreating figure with several questions filling her mind until one stood out the most. “Fate, are you… “
She immediately shook her head, realizing where her train of thought was heading, and it was not the appropriate time for such things.
It did not take long for the two to reach their destination, eyes remained forward, scanning the horizon where a large expanse of mostly unclaimed land lay.
Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, the anxiety within her heart continued to grow. “I hope he's okay.”
"I’m worried too," Fate went on, "but Shirou isn’t someone who’d go down easily. He would’ve thought of something to stay safe until help arrived."
"I know," Nanoha replied after a pause.
She almost said more, almost argued that any moment wasted could be the moment they lost him, but she stopped herself. Fate was right. Shirou had proven himself more times than she could count in such a short amount of time. Despite his sometimes too-humble demeanor, he was resourceful and reliable during a crisis.
Thinking back, she recalled how odd his magic… or rather his magecraft was, the swords themselves were no less than Lost Logias capable of cutting through almost anything — even anti-magic fields with ease. Calling him an unofficial A-rank mage wasn’t an exaggeration with those two married blades and his Barrier Jacket.
"I know he should be able to keep himself alive," she admitted, her voice lower now. "What I’m really worried about... is what Jail even wants from him.”
She shook her head.
"If Jail really wanted him dead, he would’ve done so instead of capturing him. He would’ve sent a message, let the Bureau know. But he didn’t. Which means... Shirou’s alive. He’s keeping him for something."
The forest below began to expand rapidly as they neared the edge of the landmass opposite Midchilda. This was a largely uninhabited region, covered in deep woods, jagged mountain ridges, and rocky terrain. Nanoha knew it well; she and Fate had come out here more than once in the past, sometimes for training, other times just to camp or enjoy some peace away from the city’s constant buzz.
This place was marked as safe for TSAB personnel, but civilians were heavily discouraged from entering. It wasn’t exactly hostile, but with wild animals, unstable terrain, and no clear mapping of certain areas, it was easy for the unprepared to vanish without a trace.
"This region’s too large," Fate muttered. "Covering it entirely with just the two of us could take days."
"It’s the best chance we’ve got!" Nanoha replied, refusing to slow down as she flew just behind her friend, scanning the terrain with sharp eyes.
"Even if the base is somewhere nearby, do you really think Jail wouldn’t use advanced concealment spells to hide it? He’s stayed hidden this long for a reason."
"Or," Nanoha said darkly, "someone is helping him hide. Someone on the inside."
That silenced both of them. The thought had lingered in the background ever since this began, and Hayate's prior words practically confirmed this. A rat from within the Bureau’s own ranks was more than troubling; a single name came to mind, but she had no proof to act on it. While that man did have plenty of opposition against not just her but also Hayate and Riot Force 6, Regius easily became the first suspect.
If that were to be true, then it meant their every move could be observed, countered, erased. No wonder their search had yielded nothing. A few moments passed in silence, broken only by the wind rushing past them and the occasional whisper of tree canopies below.
Then, almost inaudibly, Nanoha spoke again.
"Am I really someone people can rely on?"
The words were faint, almost lost to the wind. Fate’s eyes widened slightly.
"Nanoha-chan?" she called out, her voice cutting through the sky.
Her hands clenched tightly at her sides.
"When I first met Shirou, I promised to help him find a way home, to give him a safer life than just wandering alone after arriving from Earth. But ever since he joined the Riot Force 6, his life has been under threat over and over again. Every time I see him close to such dangers, I can’t help but feel responsible for placing him in that position. Now he’s been taken, and I don’t even know where to start looking."
Her voice faltered, and her next words were swallowed by the silence until Fate gently placed her hands on her shoulders. Her eyes were filled with empathy.
"Shirou knew this wouldn’t be easy. He understood the danger, and he didn’t back away from it." The woman had a hard time even saying anything against that, for she knew it was the truth. The boy had proven to be quite the stubborn one, even if she tried to keep him away from such matters, he would find himself involved one way or another. “I'm more worried about Jail than him, honestly. Imagine how devastated he'd be with all his drones getting destroyed by flying swords. Or if one of his numbers ends up betraying him because Shirou somehow managed to change her mind thanks to his cooking.”
That managed to make Nanoha’s lips twitch upwards.
“Come now, Fate, I agree he is great at cooking, but that is a bit of an exaggeration.” She said with a weak smile, only making the one in front start to chuckle.
“Oh? Don't you remember how he first met the little Lutecia by giving her a small snack? She fell for the bait and has now become practically his little sister~! Even Vivio sees him as that, I wouldn't be surprised if she starts calling me Mama and him Papa.”
Ah… this time it was the eyebrows that ended up twitching.
There was… something about that phrase that felt oddly wrong, unable to pinpoint what exactly this emotion came from — she decided to push it away for now. Maybe it was the lack of sleep lately or the stress getting to her.
“Vivio is still a young child; they tend to say anything, and she'll learn in the future.”
“What if she also calls you Mama, along with me and Shirou Papa? It would be quite scandalous if people were to hear that fufufufu~! Maybe I should teach her to call you big sister or aunty~”
“...”
Another twitch, was she doing so deliberately? Hard to tell, no… she definitely was. Fate was not so oblivious as to miss such a thing. “I'm not that old to be called aunty yet… there's nothing wrong if she wants to call me Mama as well…”
These words came out of her mouth without Nanoha thinking them through entirely. Only to realize her mistake a few seconds later, upon seeing Fate’s stare from before zeroing in on her face. “Poor Yuuno.”
“What does Yuuno have to do with anything here!?” She had absolutely no idea what the latter was insinuating in the least. Yuuno and she were close friends, but that was about it. She knew Fate was more than aware of that point but brought it up just to tease her.
Especially with that visible smirk on her face!
“There, feeling better now?”
Ah…
“You were getting too worried, almost making the same kind of mistake you constantly reminded all of the trainees to avoid in such a situation. You know what I'm talking about.”
To not let one's emotions take control of them in any kind of scenario. To keep their cool at all costs and not let themselves be led by the nose. Those were some of the few lessons she, as an instructor, constantly tells others… yet here she was nearly doing that very same thing.
"Thanks… Fate," she whispered, feeling slightly better at that moment, and a beautiful smile returned on her face. “But just so we are clear, there is nothing going on between me and Yuuno. So don't bring that up with Shir—” the following words came to a halt, both tensed up immediately, her senses catching a faint disturbance. Fate felt it too, her head snapping toward the distant mountain ranges east.
"Did you feel that?" the blonde asked.
Nanoha gave a firm nod.
"A mana signature, I think? It's faint, but something is going on there."
Neither of them needed to guess who it belonged to. There was only one person who came to mind, and neither questioned how he could be doing something of that scale in the first place. His magecraft still wasn’t something they fully understood, given how much it differed compared to their system. They had spoken about it briefly when he first arrived, and from what she had seen during training sessions, there was much more to his power than he let on.
The ability to create swords seemingly without limit, as long as he had the energy, was not rare per se — but his were clearly different. Yet none of his previous constructs had produced this kind of output. Aside from the shield he used, which most mages in Midchilda had initially mistaken for a spell… which would have also applied to them had he not told them the details later. Still, there had been no signs of this kind of raw energy before.
"Please stay safe, Shirou. I'm almost there."
With that, Nanoha pushed herself harder, rocketing forward with Fate close behind. The two streaks of light in the sky blazed like comets, drawing ever closer to the source of the disturbance. It was not far, thankfully enough taking only an hour to reach the area, and when they finally reached visual range, what they saw left both of them frozen in place, staring in disbelief.
Not only was Shirou not there, but instead of finding him, they stumbled upon a floating ship before them.
“A… Lost Logia?" Nanoha whispered, her voice hollow with shock as she found its appearance to be familiar, but could not pinpoint the name. "It's enormous," her mouth slightly ajar as her eyes took in the sheer size of it.
The structure hovered in the sky like a sleeping titan, stretching out for what seemed like a dozen kilometers. It was large enough to blanket a small city, its surface partly shrouded in a thick carpet of trees that had, until now, kept it hidden from visual detection. But now that it had lifted from its initial resting place, the disguise began to fall away, revealing its true form — a ship gleaming with polished gold, catching the sun with a brilliance that was nearly blinding.
Fate stared at it, her breath hitching slightly. Something about this vessel tugged at the back of her memory. She narrowed her eyes, trying to summon the name, the image, the identity buried somewhere in her mind. Then it struck her — like a faint whisper from a history lesson nearly forgotten.
"The Saint's Cradle!" she said softly, more to herself than anyone else, though uncertainty still hung in her tone. It was the only name that matched what she saw before her, and even Nanoha drew in a sharp breath of disbelief.
"Wasn't that... wasn't that the place where monarchs once used to be born in?" Nanoha asked, her voice hushed. "Born inside the ship... ruling from within it... and eventually dying of old age, never once leaving its halls. It was supposed to be a Lost Logia. I thought it was lost forever… Some even suspected it had been destroyed. But wait, I thought that it was impossible to activate it without someone of the Saint King’s bloodline controlling it?"
"It might be the reason why this thing hasn't flown off yet. From the looks of it, it stayed here for quite a while. How is it possible that the Bureau never managed to locate it if it was on this planet this entire time?”
“Regardless, now we know who found it first," Fate replied grimly, her eyes narrowing. "No wonder he kept slipping past our scans. With something like that in his possession, even if he cannot properly steer this entire thing by himself, the fact that he managed to partially activate it probably means he can use some of its functions to remain hidden. But whatever the case, it's clear we're a bit too late."
The two of them stared at the front of the colossal vessel. Part of its outer hull in the front had broken away, revealing a gaping wound in the metal. A strange spiral pattern radiated outward from the impact point, glowing faintly as the last traces of rainbow coloured light flickered in and out of view like fading embers — dense amounts of magical energy. Despite the visible damage, the ship remained afloat in the air somehow.
"Let's go!" Nanoha called, already surging forward. If this truly was the base you were searching for, not only would she be able to save him, but also capture Jail and put all of this to an end once and for all.
{Break}
(An hour earlier)
Shirou, for his part, hadn't expected the destruction to ripple this far. He had used that Noble Phantasm before, but never in its original form, weirdly enough. Caladbolg was just as powerful as any other high-ranked noble phantasms when it came down to pure destructive capabilities. The sword of the Irish hero and King of Ulster — a relic that could distort space as an arrow and split the earth — had always been at his disposal for a while. He’d trained with it, fired it like a projectile in practice or on the battlefield several times, but this time was truly the first time he had activated its original power, unleashing its might, not as a throwaway technique, but as a devastating force of nature.
Now, standing at the epicenter of what was once solid terrain and was now a gouged-out scar of rock and ash, he could only marvel at the scale of it.
"So you're still alive."
The voice pulled him from his reverie. He turned, blinking against the brightness of the dust-choked air, to see Zest approaching. The man’s hair had returned to its normal shade, and his body bore the marks of battle — burns, bruises, and shallow cuts that streaked his arms and torso. But his posture remained strong, and his eyes sharp. Even though they had been at each other's throats not that long ago, Shirou just hoped his actions and words ended up convincing the man.
"What exactly are you?"
"That's a weird way to say thank you," Shirou replied with a weak smile, his voice still rough from exhaustion. The words had a touch of sarcasm, but no venom. “Don't be afraid of the white spots on my hair, I guarantee you that I'm still human. ”
Perhaps trying
“... Hah.”
Zest let out a low sigh, shaking his head, though the faint smile that tugged at his lips betrayed a sliver of incredulousness.
"You fight like a crazy person," he said. “Who in their right mind ends up using a weapon capable of destroying a spaceship as big as this and once again nearly dying by either height or from the things hidden below?”
Shirou didn’t answer immediately. He looked down at Caladbolg, which had not fully dispersed yet, ‘While it is a powerful weapon, it takes a while to charge up with enough energy to cause enough damage. Best to keep using it as an arrow.’ A small tremor passed through his fingers one last time before it fully disappeared.
"What kind of weapon was that?" Zest asked, his tone steady. There was caution there, but no hostility; he did not even ask where it went or how he got it.
"It's a Noble Phantasm that hopefully I won’t have to use again anytime soon," Shirou replied silently as the last motes of light dispersed within the air around them. "It drained more of my reserves than I was prepared for. Without you holding the others off, I wouldn’t have had time to activate it. And even if I had… I don’t know if I could’ve handled the aftermath alone."
He let out a breath, slow and heavy.
"The destruction it caused speaks for itself."
The middle-aged man said nothing at first, merely studying the boy with an unreadable expression. Then, without a word, he stepped closer, took Shirou's arm, and slung it carefully over his own shoulder, offering quiet support as they made their way toward a more secure area.
"We shouldn’t stay here longer than necessary, or else they’ll find us again," he said in a low voice, his tone more cautious than urgent. Even after such a massive attack, both men knew perfectly well that it was unlikely many had perished in the blast. Shirou had not launched that technique with the intent to kill. His goal had been singular: to save the man beside him and escape the Saint's Cradle.
"Does this mean you’ve accepted my offer? That you'll be returning to see Lutecia as well? Even though she does not say it straight to my face, I can tell she misses you quite a bit. So does Agito." He said, voice strained as he winced with each step, pain rippling up from his battered legs, but he remained upright, trying to pass it off as something minor. His discomfort was noticed by Zest, who, just like his companion, did not truly have a way to rest.
"Your leg is injured," Zest noted.
"After all, we fell from a ridiculous height. There was no way to escape it unscathed. Plus, it’s my fault," Shirou answered with a tired smile. He was grateful for the concern, even if he thought it was wasted on him. "I recover quickly. A few days and I should be good as new."
"Watch out." The man’s voice came dry and flat, just a second before Shirou was yanked back with a jolt. A massive piece of metal crashed down exactly where he had been standing moments before, kicking up a blinding cloud of debris and smoke. Shards of steel flew outwards like shrapnel.
"We need to get out of here. Now."
Wasting no time with niceties, Zest hoisted Shirou like a sack of potatoes and bolted toward the treeline. He moved with surprising speed, leaping from rock to root, weaving between crashing debris with the agility of someone who had not been in a fight just hours ago.
As the forest rushed past in a blur of green and gray, Shirou glanced back toward the Saint's Cradle. It still hung in the air, impossibly suspended despite the gaping damage across its hull. His structural analysis only offered fragmented details, limited to interior sections he had scanned before — the mazelike corridors, dozens of unused rooms, the vast drone-storage chambers. But now he was seeing the entire thing in all its terrifying glory.
How could Midchilda have missed something this massive in the first place?
"It has a cloaking mechanism. Even if it is a Lost Logia from ancient times, modern technology still has blind spots. Not everything can be traced or detected."
A Lost Logia? The term alone boggled Shirou’s mind. In his world, things like that were akin to mystic codes or Noble Phantasms, artifacts of immense power. But nothing he had ever seen compared to this. It was not a weapon or a tool. It was a floating city.
‘They truly are beyond modern mages in certain ways. Even if this has nothing to do with jewelcraft or magecraft as I know it, I can practically see those few magi from Atlas drooling at the sight of this thing, desperate to study every inch.’
Surely, maintaining a structure of this scale would require an enormous reservoir of power. He could only guess what enabled it to remain aloft. Whatever the source was, it had clearly survived the attack. The ship still floated.
His thoughts faded as the view of the cradle became hazier, swallowed gradually by trees and distance while Zest continued bounding through the forest. Even after an hour of travel, the structure remained visible from their position. A construct like that could be spotted from dozens of miles away.
"We should stop here for now and recuperate," Shirou suggested, sniffing the air instinctively. The metallic scent of blood had grown stronger. Zest did not answer immediately, weighing the suggestion in silence for a few seconds. Then he gave a nod.
"All right. We can rest here for a bit. At the very least, we’ll stay low and avoid drawing attention from others."
"Got it.”
.
.
.
A few minutes later, the two of them sat in silence beneath the wide canopy of a tree. Neither spoke, nor did they bother trying to start a fire, wary of being discovered. Around them, the forest breathed softly, leaves rustling in the wind, birds chirping somewhere above, distant and unaware of the wreckage lying in the distance.
Shirou stared at the shattered remains of the Saint’s Cradle. From where they were sitting, the entire structure was clearly visible, a broken colossus in the daylight. So far, there were no signs of drones or any of the Numbers sweeping the area. Whether that was good fortune or temporary luck, he couldn't say for certain. He couldn’t even tell if his last attack had actually killed Jail Scaglietti or not.
Given how loyal the Numbers were to their creator, even if he had fired Caladbolg instead of using the original weapon as intended. ‘They were willing to die for him, even if I doubt it would have been that easy to kill him. Tch, I can't afford another situation like last time and have myself cornered.’
Even if each of the Numbers, by themselves, were not at a level that would put his life in danger, collectively they were a different story. Working in unison like that would eventually tire out anyone, and they even used tactics after studying his magecraft. ‘At least I know which one is the most dangerous. I should immediately go for Quattro next time. She is clearly the brains behind the tactics used, and without her, they would have a harder time coming up with a plan, I guess. But what was her ability? I don't remember her using them.’
“He’s most likely alive.”
Zest’s voice broke the silence, as if he'd heard Shirou’s thoughts spoken aloud. He sat in the shade nearby, calmly tending to several wounds along his arms and side. Shirou caught sight of the glint beneath his skin — pieces of metal half-hidden beneath the torn flesh. It made him wonder just how human the man really was.
“Jail is a cunning man,” Zest went on, wrapping a cloth tightly around a gash on his shoulder. “He plans for everything, even the possibility of dying at the hands of his enemies. I don’t know the exact details, but I do know he has contingencies, methods to ensure his survival, even after death. So even if you did manage to kill him back there, which I doubt, I wouldn’t bet on him being gone forever.”
He expected as much; those words only served to make him sigh on the spot.
“Is there anything specific that gives you that idea? Unless this world has a way to reincarnate people or pull them back from the dead... or make copies of themselves.”
“The last one,” Zest replied without hesitation. “He’s a genius in that field. Back when he worked with the Time Space Administration Bureau, he was heavily involved in cloning research. After he deserted them, he likely perfected it. The Numbers are proof of that. Every one of them is his creation. They're not just machines, they’re artificial beings made with real flesh and blood. Human in all the ways that count but also with enough enhancements to see them as cyborgs…”
“I see.” Shirou exhaled slowly. It was a troubling thought. Killing had never been his first choice, not even when facing a monster like Jail. But the possibility had crossed his mind more than once. He was no stranger to the idea of killing when there was no other way. If it came to that, he could have done it. Yet if the doctor had prepared for even that outcome, he’d have to approach the situation differently from now on.
“You still wasted your time trying to save me, Emiya Shirou.”
The words cut through the silence, making the redhead momentarily speechless. Shirou blinked, caught off guard. He opened his mouth, ready to protest, but Zest spoke again before he could say a word in return.
“I don’t have much longer to live.”
“What?”
At that moment, Shirou wondered if he had heard the man correctly, scanning his body immediately for any life-threatening wounds he must have missed. Only for the former to shake his head after realising what he was doing.
“Like I said... even if I live through today, even if I find peace somehow, it won’t be for long. My time in this world is limited. I can’t say how long exactly, but it’s less than you might think. A year or two at most. Maybe less.”
“Did he do something to you? Jail, I mean. Maybe if we go back and let Hayate and the others look at you, they can find a way to fix it. A cure or something—”
“I am a clone,” Zest said flatly.
Shirou's eyes widened. Once again, he found himself speechless, the words caught somewhere between surprise and confusion. He simply stared at the man before him, who stood there with the calm of someone who had long since accepted the weight of his own fate.
“I came to learn of this matter rather recently,” Zest said at last, his voice level. “The original Zest was killed by the Numbers. I was created in his place, a replacement. But I turned out to be an imperfect copy. I still carry his memories, his thoughts, and pieces of what he once believed, but the body I was given is flawed. Every day, I can feel it weakening. It’s slowly falling apart.”
He paused for a brief moment, seeing if he had already accepted his fate a while ago.
“I suspect they were attempting something similar with you,” he continued. “Only this time, using the data from my own failure in order to make a perfect clone, most likely. One that would carry your abilities and combat instincts... but none of your will. One that would serve Jail Scaglietti without question. He has grown increasingly curious about your powers, from the first moment he fought against us till now, I am sure that the display earlier will only serve to make him desire that power further. That weapon, was it a real one or another one of your creations?”
“It's not the real one, just a copy.” The truth came out of his mouth without much delay, trying at no point to think up a lie or hide such information, for there was no reason to do so. “My magecraft is not something that allows me to store the actual weapons in a small pocket dimension exactly, everything you have seen so far was merely fake creations.”
“Does it matter whether they were fake or not?” The brown haired man countered. “At the end of the day, those same weapons were able to cut through anti-magic fields, durable enough to contend against other devices, conjure up shields, and create a weapon capable of destruction to such a degree — that only makes things worse for you. For it means these weapons can be created as many times as you want, right? There is a possibility he would think of making an army of clones with your abilities.”
“...”
He supposed the other party was right, but the latter part seemed unrealistic. He did not know how advanced the cloning technology was in this world, but the likelihood of also being able to copy his soul and his Tracing was a feat no less than True Magic or even a Miracle itself.
Something that he doubted the doctor could accomplish.
Still, a shudder passed down Shirou’s spine. The more he learned about that man, the less he wanted to know. Every revelation about this man served to further make his distaste for him grow, and it repulsed him. His tactics, his arrogance, his utter disregard for life, every part of him echoed something familiar. It reminded him of a certain priest, one who spoke of salvation while stepping over corpses. But where the priest had been hollow, an empty smile behind dead eyes, Jail's madness was something alive and burning.
And Shirou would rather never face either of them again.
“If you knew the original Zest was killed by the Numbers,” he asked slowly, “then why…”
“Why continue to help him in the first place?” he finished the question for him, his voice void of regret or hesitation. “That thought has crossed my mind more than once. Especially now that Lutecia is no longer here by my side. But the answer was always the same: Revenge.”
Zest tightened the bandage on his arm, glancing at Shirou with quiet clarity.
“I may have been created to replace him, but his hatred remained. Even if I stand beside the one who had a hand in killing me, I could never forgive the TSAB. They are no better than the doctor. Both sides use those beneath them as tools, discarding them when they’re no longer useful. And both would have used Lutecia if it served their ambitions.”
“That doesn’t really answer my question,” Shirou said, not pressing to change Zest’s mind, but genuinely wanting to understand.
“Because part of me believed that staying near Jail gave me a better chance to handle him afterwards,” Zest admitted. “And at the same time, it allowed me to strike at those I hated. Like hitting two birds with a single stone. Between monsters, I chose the one who gave me a sliver of control. Just a sliver. Jail may be evil, but against him, I had a chance to act. With the TSAB... I would have been killed long before I got close.”
“Do you still believe that? Even now?”
Zest didn’t answer immediately. He looked directly at Shirou, his gaze stern and unreadable, then sighed.
“I do not believe you are anything like those I sought vengeance against. I know you are not. And I do not believe your friends are either, not like the ones who hold power in Midchilda. But that power will reach out eventually. Sooner or later, those who stand at the top will find a way to move around all of you and get to Lutecia. They will not hesitate. It’s only a matter of time.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, a quiet intensity behind his words.
“Other than the one you trust most, Commander Hayate, tell me honestly. Do you truly believe the people around you will get you back home? That they won’t try to use you for their own ends? Just like Jail is using me?”
Again, he had no answer to that. He genuinely trusted the girls, but whether or not they held the ability to send him back was another story entirely. At this point, he had mostly accepted his presence in this world, and the only one who could fix things was either the elusive Wizard Marshal, who honestly wouldn't even care about a third-rate Magus like him, and then his precious disciple.
She was stubborn enough to shatter a diamond with her head if the situation called for it, so the chances of her giving up bringing him back were less than zero.
“I just don't see myself working alongside Jail at any point. Even if the Time Space Administration Bureau has people like him wanting to use me, Hayate is also there, along with Nanoha and Fate. They won't turn a blind eye to such a thing, and as long as they are trying to help me go back… even if that leads to nowhere — I'm satisfied.” He said, knowing that perhaps the answer was not what the man wanted to hear, but it was the truth. “Lutecia is also happy there, isn't that more than enough for you?”
“... I guess so.”
Both of them went silent afterwards, having said their parts; what remained now was to recuperate their energy.
That was until Shirou's ears twitched, and a faint sound of leaves rustling and a faint crunch reached his ears. “—!”
Without wasting a moment, he traced several black keys before firing them in the same direction where the sound came from, his action immediately making Zest get back up on his feet but without his spear, opting to take a defensive stance.
“Hya!”
That… did not sound like a drone or a wild animal as he expected. Both exchanged stares, and Zest went deeper within to see what… who was the one they stumbled across. A few seconds later, the redhead heard sounds of struggling and another cry of pain.
“H-Hey, don't pull the hair, you brute! Have you got no decency!?” A feminine voice, one that he immediately recognised and was stunned to see come out of the foliage, being pulled by her hair. Covered in burns, cuts, and bruises all over her body, the blue uniform and tatters showing a large portion of her skin, along with the broken glasses barely hanging onto her face.
“Quattro?” He called her out with disbelief, with Zest searching her body for anything unusual. “How… what are you doing here?” Having nearly blurted out how she survived, he managed to change his question at the very last moment.
Even though the girl did not participate in the battle, she did not seem the kind who would be specialised in combat, given how easily he had taken her as a hostage before. Her being more of a tactician and leader commanding the other girls on the battlefield from what he saw, no way she would go after them all by herself unless…
“Shit, just my luck, stumbling upon you two.” She muttered under her breath, glaring at him and Zest, who kept holding her by the hair.
“You really expect us to believe that you came here all by yourself by pure accident?” Shirou said, not trusting the woman in the least after what happened last time, fully prepared to deal with other Numbers or drones emerging out of the blue and ambushing them. This thought was also shared by Zest, who kept observing their surroundings for any unusual signs.
“I don't see anyone, but we should not take the risk and stay here any longer,” Zest said, to which Shirou agreed with his words. “Keep an eye on her, I will survey the surroundings and make sure there are no ambushes put in place.”
Without much grace, the man practically threw Quattro towards him with a simple toss. In his hands, the girl was practically weightless as she soared in the air for a bit before landing right in front of him with her face crashing against the dirt. “Ouch!” The girl exclaimed, holding onto her nose and looking back at the retreating figure in the distance with resentment. “Acting all nice and quiet back when we were still on the same side, but now turning into a brute the moment you betrayed us… Urgh, typical. I knew we should not have kept him around after he failed his last mission.”
For someone who just got captured again, she sure did have a mouth and was not afraid to talk out loud.
“You have a talent for ending up as a hostage each time we meet.” He said dryly while kneeling next to her. “Bad luck might be your real power after all. I can at least empathise with you on that end.”
“Bite me.”
“Get a shower first.”
“Is that how you talk to a lady?”
“Then behave like one first.” Not exactly in the mood to keep her entertained with any back-and-forth arguments, he wasted no time discarding her cape. A quick check immediately revealed the complex inner workings of this material that looked so simple from the outside, most likely a device. Recalling the moment before he got attacked on the ship, one of the numbers managed to figure out something was wrong because Quattro turned her hand invisible at a distance.
“Hey! Careful with that, it's a gift from the doctor after all.”
Just to make sure she had not used her ability to hide something on her body, he pressed his hand against her head before using structural analysis. Making sure she did not have anything hidden on her or any trackers. Yet as he continued to focus, his attention was immediately drawn to a particular area of her body.
Quattro's womb, more specifically.
The presence of another life within.
His face went into pure shock, slowly turning his gaze towards Quattro, who was in the middle of cursing Zest and talking about how she accidentally ended up wandering in this area before an explosion. Yet he paid no attention to that, instead silently whispering.
“You're pregnant?”
“... ance to escape and ru—!?” The girl stopped talking as soon as he said that, her head whipping around to look him right in the eyes while he tried to understand what was going on here. The embryo itself was at best slightly smaller than a fist, with even some sort of electrical device present within. But rather than disbelief, he saw a brief moment of surprise within the girl's eyes before she let out a small smirk.
“I underestimated that spell of yours, so not only can it scan inanimate objects and plan out your surroundings like a radar… It can also analyze a body like mine.” She said casually while the boy, on the other hand, started to recall any moments where he had fought the girl. Guilt rose within him upon realizing that back on the ship, he had nearly killed her along with the others.
“Why… why are you fighting if you're pregnant?” He asked, trying to make sense of the situation. Feeling completely unsure of what to do with her. “You didn't say anything to me back then as well!”
“What, so you would have been more gentle with me when taken as a hostage?” She commented while tilting her head a bit. “I didn't mind, you were rough, but I think I liked it.”
Was she intentionally trying to mess with him? Definitely, her very presence here was suspicious, and the likelihood of it being by pure chance alone was pretty low. Still, he unconsciously found himself helping her back up without using much force, but still making sure she would not escape. Thousands of thoughts rumbled in his mind, now wishing to go back to Midchilda as soon as possible and have someone more capable handle this matter.
“Oh my, look how gentle you have become with me. Were you finding out that I bear a life within me, all that it required to no longer be seen as an enemy? Honestly, I should have said something back then; things wouldn't have escalated this quickly, and the Saint's Cradle would have at least not been destroyed. Since you found out, does that mean you will set me free? We wouldn't want anything bad to happen to the life inside my womb after all.” She spoke with a sly tone, his eyes twitching and frustration growing upon realising that the girl was intentionally trying to get a reaction out of him.
He kept his silence, deciding that trying to argue with her would only lead to a losing battle. Thankfully, it seemed that she realised his approach and decided to no longer bother him anymore, humming with a slight smile on her face. Neither said a word to each other for a few minutes until Zest returned.
“Coast is clear, it doesn't seem like she was being followed by any drones or other Numbers. We should use this opportunity to continue moving, since she is already here, you can give her to the TSAB, and they can interrogate her for more information.” He said while approaching the girl, intending to grab her — only for Shirou to get in front and sweep his arms around Quattro before lifting her up in one swift motion.
“Ah!”
The Number let out a startled yelp of surprise, before chuckling with a knowing look crossing her face, which he decided to ignore. Zest, on the other hand, merely raised an eyebrow but did not dwell on the matter for long: “Let's go.”
While all three made their way deeper within the forest, Quattro did not fail to use the opportunity to further try to get on his nerves. Her fingers poking his face as she whispered near his ear, “Are you sure you would want to hand me over? Who knows what they will do with my body? I am, after all, the creation of the doctors; surely there must be plenty of scientists over there dying to dissect every part of me. They might be in for a surprise upon finding it inside.”
“... Shut up.”
His face twitched as she blew onto his ears playfully, unable to stop part of his face from growing red at the teasing.
“We got company.”
Zest warned, both of them stopping in their tracks. But instead of facing another swarm of drones or the numbers coming after them once again, what caught his attention were the two streaks of light in the air heading straight towards them. Moving at such a high speed that he barely had time to even recognise who it was until the person was already right in front of him.
“Shirou!”
He smiled at the person who shouted his name from the sky, wanting to wave at her but realising his hands were a bit occupied at the moment. “Sorry to have made you worried about me, Nanoha.”
The figure accompanied by none other than Fate, both heading towards him, making a straight beeline as if she was about to crash into him, only to stop mid-air with her eyes wide open and staring back at Quattro in his embrace. The latter looked a bit tense at the sight of the two, but still kept a calm face without her previous smirk anywhere to be seen.
Nanoha did not even seem to have noticed Zest, same went for Fate, who looked back and forth between him and the Number.
“Ah… this is… um, this is Quattro… one of the Numbers. We just happened to find her…?” Even he realised that his explanation sounded severely lacking at that moment, but that was truly what happened, and he did not know what else to say, his mind still having not fully recovered from the previous revelation.
Instead, he heard Fate whispering something to Nanoha’s ears.
“He really baited and captured another one, didn't he…”
Her question got a slow nod from the brunette. Quattro seemed to have heard it, and he immediately recognized the look that flashed across her eyes; this cunning woman was planning something.
Unfortunately, what he did not expect was for her to lean in closer and whisper in his ear. “Well, aren't you popular?” Not missing the opportunity to plant a small kiss on his face, which surprised everyone, including Zest.
“...”
“...”
An awkward silence fell upon them, the boy found himself glaring at Quattro, who just shrugged without a care in the world for her actions. All the while feeling two burning gazes upon him, yet as he looked at the two women above.
All he found was a slight frown on Nanoha and Fate, who had a smile that looked oddly off.
What was going on here?
--------
For anyone confused about Quattro's case well... Uh, don't know if this counts as spoilers but you can check out the Number's wiki and see what I meant by that. If you want to learn it through the story then I won't mention it.
But yeah, it is something that's canon to the anime.
2025-06-06 07:54:11 +0000 UTC
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Beta read by Paragon of Awesomeness and Gamercr
2025-06-01 00:34:29 +0000 UTC
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