Chapter 39: Win
…Win
The purge of the Meluastea continued in the Department of Archaeology. It had started early at nine o'clock in the morning and continued strongly until now, which was one o'clock in the afternoon. Three out of the four halls had already been seized, and the underground complex had been reduced to a smouldering heap of ashes.
Only one hall remained, that being the Eastern hall, coincidentally also the one where the Meluastea-family had hidden themselves, and the morale of the attackers was at an all-time high.
A mission that should have taken weeks to complete now promised to be over in under a day. The haul of loot, research, and prisoners was greater than any of them could have anticipated. Hundreds of people, Magi and mundane, had been saved from the claws of the Meluastea.
Most importantly, there had been no deaths among the attacking forces yet, and whatever wounds were received were mild and sometimes even inconsequential.
Assaulting the lair of a ruling family had turned out to be a much simpler affair than anyone could have imagined.
Some might say it was ridiculous that attacking a well-defended base was so easy, that something had to be wrong, and that a trap was perhaps being laid, but those people would be overlooking one crucial fact.
The Department of Archaeology depended too much on Bounded Fields, and that lack of variation in their defences was what ultimately became their downfall.
The entire defence-strategy of the Meluastea, and with them, most other Magi, was based almost solely upon Bounded Fields. The moment those lost their value, because of someone like Shirou coming along for instance, the strategy and their defences completely collapsed.
Whether it was in the Southern hall of the Department of Archaeology, the Western hall, or even the underground complex, the moment Shirou broke the Bounded Fields, it changed from a potentially challenging fight to a matter of mopping up the frightened Magi who seemed to have no plan B in case their Bounded Fields failed, or at least no plan B they could engage in a sufficiently short time.
It was to be expected though. There was normally very little reason to spend time and energy on creating secondary plans when you had Bounded Fields. After all, Bounded Fields were objectively amazing.
They were the staple of point-defences in the Moonlit World. Unlike Runes, Gem-Craft, or many other Fields of Magecraft, Bounded Fields could be made and used by almost anyone. Mastering the art was of course still beholden to only a few but becoming reasonably skilled with Bounded Fields was easier than becoming so with Runes.
True, Bounded Fields needed a lot of effort to create, but it wasn't necessarily very difficult or complicated. With enough effort and concentration, it was doable for anybody, and the rewards were more than worth the cost.
If a Bounded Field was constructed correctly and no rookie-mistakes had been made, such as leaving a focal point of the Spell outside the Field itself, neglecting a part of the stabilisation-process, or rushing through the last part of construction, leaving frayed edges that could be exploited, then breaking through said Bounded Field was extremely difficult.
Bounded Fields could serve as a direct wall, or rather, a type of force-field, that could keep attackers out, but they could also hold many different defences, such as walls of fire, storms of razor-sharp icicles, stakes that rose from the ground whenever someone stepped somewhere they shouldn't, and more.
Worse, Bounded Fields could also have traps built into them. In such a case, it would seem like the Bounded Field broke down, but the moment a careless attacker entered the premises, the Bounded Field would reactivate and kill the attacker, or drain them of energy, or paralyse them, or do some other horrible thing.
And that wasn't even mentioning the really esoteric ones, such as the Bounded Fields with properties based on the Craft of Cu Chulainn, which forced opponents into a deathmatch with him, or the ones created by the Witches of Ancient Greece, which produced endless armies of skeleton warriors.
The point was, Bounded Fields were excellent tools for defence, and the only reason they weren't used for attacking was because it was impossible to move Bounded Fields once they had been established.
Sure, you could create a Bounded Field on a train and drive that train around, but the position of the Bounded Field inside the train wouldn't change, nor would it influence anything outside the train.
Defence was what Bounded Fields were meant for and defence was what they excelled at.
If a Magus with no particular talent for creating Bounded Fields got a nice, secluded spot of land, enough resources, and a year or so to themselves, then they could create a Bounded Field that could keep a team of experienced Enforcers out long enough to escape or engage contingency plans. Less if the Enforcers had a Bounded Field expert with them, but such people were very rare, and often didn't survive long if they made their Craft known.
After all, with Bounded Fields being as important as they were, no one wanted someone around who could grievously upset the natural order of things by potentially making them obsolete.
That a single Magus with a year of time could make such a Bounded Field also meant that Magus-families, especially the old ones that had existed for many generations already, could make Bounded Fields that were far superior in quality. The Bounded Fields on the Tohsaka-estate for instance would be able to keep an average attacking force outside for many hours, even longer if Rin herself was inside to manage the defences.
Not to mention the Matou-estate. That place had been ridiculously well-defended with horrid traps and defence-mechanisms, and though Shirou had been able to break right in, he was in any and every way an exception to the rule.
There was a reason Bounded Fields were so popular, and that reason was that they simply did their job right. There was nothing more to it. Bounded Fields were good at what they did, and thus highly appreciated in the Moonlit World.
Undoubtedly, the Meluastea had thought themselves to be quite safe as well, hidden behind their own Bounded Fields in their department. They reasoned that no one would be able to breach the Fields in a short amount of time, and normally, they would have been entirely correct.
And then Shirou came along.
The Bounded Fields of the Department of Archaeology, massive, intricate, and powerful, fell in seconds when Shirou took them on, and with that core of their defences falling away, the Meluastea had nothing they could use to respond.
Because their Bounded Fields had been so amazing, they had neglected to prepare any other kind of protective measure, and now they paid the price for their short-sightedness.
As he broke down yet another Bounded Field on yet another Workshop, Shirou glanced from the corner of his eyes at Lady Barthomeloi, who looked on coolly as the Magi inside the Workshop screamed in fear and started scrambling for a means to defend themselves against the Enforcers entering to drag them out.
By now, there was nothing left of the surprise she'd shown when he'd first smashed through Bounded Fields as if they were sheets of paper. She'd accepted it as the standard with him and didn't even bat an eye anymore. Rather, she seemed sunken in thought.
Since she was a clever, cunning woman, Shirou knew for a fact that she was already considering the ramifications of his existence and the talents he'd shown her so far.
She had already promised not to Seal him, for which Shirou was eternally grateful of course, but that didn't mean he was completely off the hook when it came to the consequences of his actions.
Bounded Fields were massively important to Magi as defence-mechanisms and as a guarantee that their Workshops and possessions were safe, and that he could break them down so easily could be considered a revolution, or a disaster, depending on who you asked. Shirou knew that, Lady Barthomeloi knew that, Lady Montmorency knew that, Lord El-Melloi knew that, and basically everyone else with the slightest amount of common sense knew that as well.
Suddenly, because of Shirou's existence, the mighty Bounded Fields that were used worldwide to protect the possessions and lives of Magi may become entirely obsolete. Lady Barthomeloi had already said that she wanted to perform research on Shirou, to see if she could learn more about his talents, and if she or her associates succeeded in copying his skill, Bounded Fields could very quickly become a thing of the past.
Suddenly, other ways of defending oneself and one's possession would be needed, ways that might be far more complicated, difficult, or expensive than the Jack-of-all-Trades Bounded Fields.
For Shirou himself, that wasn't a problem. He did have several Bounded Fields on his house, for a variety of reasons such as defence, suppression of sound from inside, anti-eavesdropping, and anti-observation, but he also had Wards created with Runes, he had changed his house into his personal territory with Formalcraft, and he had liberally used the Mysterious Power as well to create various means of keeping hostile spells and presences out.
In short, he would be fine, Bounded Fields or not. The fact that it was his house and he wouldn't have to break the fields also helped.
Other Magi might find it considerably more difficult however to make the switch from Bounded Fields to something else, and it was that difficulty that was probably most prominently on Lady Barthomeloi's mind right now.
Shirou fully expected her to drag him to her office once the purge was over so she could make it clear to him just how important it was that he never shared his knowledge and talents with anyone else, lest he cause massive chaos to wash over the entirety of the Moonlit World. She would also probably pressure him into not using his talent too liberally.
Shirou didn't have to be told to understand however, and even though he was pretty sure no one would be able to copy his ability of breaking down Bounded Fields –since it required an ability to instantly grasp the Bounded Fields, which was basically impossible to normal Magi, and the ability to control one's Magical Power so completely that one could mix it in with the power of the Bounded Field, which was also nigh-on impossible to normal Magi– he still wasn't going to share it with anyone else, ever.
He had no intention of setting of a bomb like that for no reason at all. If other Magi wanted what he had, they could develop their own method through their own hard work.
…Cue the moment of depression when Shirou yet again realised that he had become a greater Magus than either he or his father had ever thought possible.
He had truly become the enemy.
The depression was quickly shaken off though, and Shirou turned to Lady Barthomeloi.
"That was the last Workshop in the Northern hall. There is nothing left here. Only the Eastern hall remains." He informed her, before frowning at the next part he had to say. "That puts me at 354 opponents defeated, and you at 375 opponents."
In other words, he'd completely blown his earlier lead.
"That you are so far behind now is entirely your own fault." The brunette told him coolly, a trace of irritation visible in her eyes. "Answering that beeping sound of your 'mobile phone' cost you several valuable minutes at the end."
"It was an important call." Shirou huffed. "I had to answer it. I'm sorry, my lady, but there are many things in life which I consider more important than winning a competition."
It had been a call from Sakura after all, so naturally he had answered it without a second thought. If she called him at an unusual time like this, there was definitely something wrong, and he had to reply immediately.
His girlfriends would always be more important than any game or competition he was participating in, and Lady Barthomeloi was more than capable of handling all remaining opponents by herself. As such, he'd excused himself the moment his phone began ringing, fully prepared to storm out of the Clocktower and towards the airport if his girls needed him.
Heavens, he might fly home by himself if needed.
Ultimately, nothing that drastic had been required. It turned out not to be that much of an emergency, but more of a curiosity. Ayako, Sakura, and Issei had found a corpse a small distance away from the Ryuudou-temple, half-buried by unknown hands. It was an old corpse, and the perpetrators had clearly been nowhere near them at any point, but it had still been off-putting enough for the girls to call him, not because they needed something from him, but because they wanted to inform him of it.
Shirou had done his best to set them at ease, which was made easier by the fact that neither had really been shocked by it. In fact, of the three who found the body, it had been Issei who had taken it the hardest. Ayako and Sakura had remained clinical about it for the most part.
They did appreciate it though that he was trying to comfort them, even if it wasn't really necessary.
His conversation with the girls hadn't lasted very long though. The moment Shirou had let it slip he was busy with a purge, the girls had apologised for interrupting him so rudely, and despite all his protests and assurances that there was no problem, had insisted on hanging up and continuing their talk later.
So Shirou had put his phone back into his pocket and had joined Lady Barthomeloi again, who by then had dealt with the remaining opponents, putting her ahead of him by a fair bit, enough that he would be hard-pressed to make up for it, especially since only one hall remained.
She was annoyed by the fact he'd pulled back from their game to answer a call, but Shirou wasn't going to apologise for it. He had made his opinion clear, and he stood by it, even if it would make her angry.
Lady Barthomeloi didn't get angry however. Rather, his words somehow seemed to have made an impression on her, for she frowned back at him, biting her lip in thought.
"If your 'call' truly was important, I shall overlook it." She declared after a few moments, nodding as if she'd made an important decision just now. "I shall return to my score at the moment you were called away by your 'mobile phone'. You are at 354, and I am at 357."
"Lady Barthomeloi?!" Shirou's mouth fell open at her declaration, before he shook his head. "There is no need to-"
"There is a need." She sternly corrected him. "I did not enter this competition to engineer a victory for myself at any cost or in any way necessary. I wish to defeat you in a fair battle, so that we may truly see who is superior in the matter of purges. Profiting from a distraction is cheap and unbecoming, and I apologise for giving the impression that I would do such a thing."
"…Alright, apology accepted." Shirou mumbled, unsure what to think of her sudden declaration, but not about to make a problem out of it. If she was willing to be so accommodating, he wasn't going to complain.
Especially since, and he knew it was odd for him to say it at this point, he did feel motivated to do as well as he could in the competition. For all his grousing, he hadn't been able to resist giving it his best effort, and being behind Lady Barthomeloi by only three opponents made his heart almost clamour for them to move on to the Eastern hall quickly.
"Are there opponents or other matters we haven't dealt with yet left in this hall?" Lady Barthomeloi then asked him. "You already reported there are no more enemies, but is there perhaps anything else that may require our personal attention?"
Shirou took a deep breath through his nose, using his sense of smell to the fullest extent to find anything and anyone near them that might be of interest, before he shook his head.
"There's nothing left." He concluded, before turning his head towards the last stronghold the Meluastea had left within their department. "Only the Eastern hall remains."
"Hm." The Vice-Director hummed lightly, crossing her arms with a pensive look. "You said earlier that the Meluastea themselves are in the Eastern hall. Are they still present there at this moment?"
"They are. Also, there are more people in that hall now than in the Western and Northern halls combined, and it is the most defended out of the four halls. They have not just Bounded Fields, but also Runes, Formalcraft, and the most powerful Magi of the lot."
"Should we be concerned?"
"The two of us? No. The Enforcers and mercenaries who follow us? Yes." Shirou summarised, before expanding a bit when Lady Barthomeloi motioned for him to continue. "From what I know of myself and have heard of and seen from you, we don't have to worry about what awaits us. I can deal with the Bounded Fields and the Runes, and the Magi, though more powerful than the ones we have fought so far, are nothing we can't handle. The people on our side will have more difficulty with it however, and casualties will surely follow if we are careless."
"I see." Lady Barthomeloi nodded, glancing back at the Northern hall, where numerous Enforcers, mercenaries, and officers of Policies were combing through the wreckage with fine tooth combs. At this point, a normal Magus might have ordered them to push ahead anyway and absorb the losses. She did no such thing however, as Shirou had already expected.
She might not show it overtly, but Shirou had noticed that she did care about the people in her employ. That went for her own personnel, but also for the people she had hired for the occasion. She truly saw them as her responsibility. As such, having them die while it could have been avoided was practically anathema to her.
It wasn't very Magus-like, but Shirou had noted often over the past weeks that Lady Barthomeloi was far more a Queen than she was a Magus. She was ruthless when needed but being wasteful with people's lives was something she'd never do.
That wasn't in any way a negative by the way. Rather, it was a positive in his eyes. Shirou was relieved that the ruler of the Clocktower was like that. It was far easier for him to get along with a ruler than with a Magus, not to mention that it was better on a professional level to not have a Magus be in charge of anything important.
Magi couldn't lead anything after all. The Clocktower surely would have fallen centuries ago if Magi had been at the head. Just look at the Department of Archaeology and the Meluastea. They had tried to take a leading role, even forming a block under their command, but said block had been nothing but a loose cooperation between masters and slaves, all of vying for power and eager to turn on each other. The Meluastea hadn't led them, they had used and abused them, and now their block fell apart at the slightest setback.
Honestly, it was pathetic.
"I have half a mind of ordering our allies to wait while the two of us press on by ourselves." Lady Barthomeloi spoke up, pulling Shirou's attention back to her. "If you were truthful in saying that we can handle the opposition, there is no need to put others at risk. We will have our allies guard the entrances, to prevent any criminal from escaping, but we shall only allow them inside once we have destroyed any opposition of note."
"And I suppose having all the opponents in there for ourselves also doesn't hurt?" Shirou asked, unable to suppress a smile when Lady Barthomeloi's eye twitched at being called out. "I cannot agree with you however, because-"
"There is no need for you to explain yourself." Lady Barthomeloi cut him off. "You are concerned about the prisoners, and you fear that the Meluastea and their cronies will harm them when their backs are against the wall."
"Yes." Shirou admitted with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "We have been very lucky so far that our opponents saw no value in harming their captives, but if we truly press them into a corner without any possibility of escape, they might become prone to do something… unwise."
"Such as striking against everything in range, including their captives." Lady Barthomeloi nodded. "Yes, those who have been trapped and have lost hope behave in the strangest of ways. This is something I have noticed myself during my hunts."
"They might try to use them as hostages, or use them in rituals for their last-ditch spells, or perhaps just take their anger and desperation out on them." Shirou quickly named some possibilities. "If it is just the two of us, we will take far too long to deal with them all before those possibilities could become reality."
"So speed is the problem here?"
"Yes. My father always said that you don't corner a wounded animal, but that you must kill it before it has a chance to show its fangs. Only in this case, those fangs will strike at an innocent third party."
"Your father sounds like a wise man." Lady Barthomeloi said, and Shirou had to hide a troubled smile at the sight of the Vice-Director of the Clocktower unironically complimenting the Magus-Killer. "Nevertheless, I must ask you what you have in mind to solve our issue. Let me warn you though; while I sympathise with the captives of the Meluastea, I will not send my people to their deaths for a chance to save those captives."
"Nor would I ask you to." Shirou immediately assured her. "I am merely saying that, in light of the possibility of many innocents being harmed, it would be best if we abandoned the idea of a frontal attack altogether."
That sent Lady Barthomeloi's mind whirling, her glazed eyes showing how deep in thought she was, before she focused on Shirou again.
"You are not one to negotiate with criminals." Was the first thing she said, not a trace of hesitation in her voice, though Shirou nodded nonetheless. "As such, may I assume that you intend to use stealth?"
"I have an ability that allows me to pass through Bounded Fields without destroying them and without alerting their creators." Shirou explained, referring to the very spell he'd used to enter the Einzbern-castle unnoticed. "Furthermore, I can fly, allowing me to go over the defending Magi."
"You truly are full of surprises." Lady Barthomeloi said with a hint of wryness. "I assume you wish to use a distraction to stay out of their sight?"
"I will attack the defences of the Eastern hall through the main hallway. This attack will fail of course, but it will produce immense amounts of mist and smoke. I will use this to my advantage to sneak in and strike behind enemy lines."
"We would be able to surprise the Meluastea and capture or slaughter them before they can resort to desperate and suicidal plans." Lady Barthomeloi clearly liked his plan, smiling with a feral kind of joy.
"Well, I was thinking more about freeing the captives." Shirou laughed nervously, fighting the urge to take a step back from the suddenly bloodthirsty woman. "And what do you mean 'we'?"
"I will accompany you of course." Lady Barthomeloi said as if it was obvious. "While you free the prisoners, I will deal with the Meluastea. Then, we will reconvene, return to the Southern hall, and start the attack in earnest."
"Ah, right." Shirou almost sweat-dropped as the woman laid out her plan. "You can fly yourself then?"
"Naturally." Once more, she sounded as if it was obvious, and perhaps this time, it was. "I am the foremost expert of wind-based Magecraft in the Clocktower. Flying is a simple matter for me."
"…Very well then." Shirou relented, seeing no way to refute her. "Do try to stay unnoticed though. If anyone sees you, the mission is over."
"Mister Fujimaru, I think you will find that I am quite well-versed in stealth myself." She smiled at him, and Shirou was so caught off guard by that smile he had trouble answering for a few moments, almost missing what she said next. "In fact, you will find I am quite well-versed in nearly everything. There is no Magecraft in this world that I cannot learn."
It was an astoundingly arrogant statement, one that would normally have caused anyone uttering it to drop in the level of esteem Shirou held for them, but when it came from the mouth of Lorelei Barthomeloi, he could almost believe it.
"My Sorcery Trait is that of the Almighty after all." Lady Barthomeloi continued, and her smile became slightly wider. "You will not find me lacking in stealth-capabilities."
The Almighty?
What kind of Trait was that?
…It sounded really cool.
"Come now." Lady Barthomeloi said, waving him over as she turned around and walked away. "Let us return to the Southern hall. We must inform Lady Montmorency of our plan."
"Yes, my lady." Shirou sighed, though he couldn't entirely suppress a smile as he followed after her.
She was arrogant, overbearing, and intense, but he just couldn't help but like her nonetheless.
What a woman.
Friday-morning.
8:30
Thirty-five minutes before the start of the purge of the Department of Archaeology.
Rudolph Meluastea was having the worst day of his life.
The absolute, actual worst day ever. Full stop. No exceptions.
He knew it wasn't the first time he'd said such a thing. In fact, he'd had many 'worst days of his life' before already, more than he had fingers and toes.
This time however, he really meant it. This time, he wasn't being whiny, nor did he exaggerate his suffering to garner pity, as his sisters often, rightfully, accused him of. This time, he meant every word he said. Nothing he'd ever experienced before even came close to the horrors and torture he had to endure now.
Not when he had been ten years old and his father had forgotten him during a trip to Glasgow, leaving Rudolph to wander the streets on his own for two days.
Not when his eldest sister had placed him on a horse and had then sent it running, resulting in Rudolph screaming his head off in fear for five solid minutes before being thrown head-first into a pile of horse manure, something he had been bullied for to this day.
Not when the love of his life had laughed in his face when he'd proposed to her, and not when his uncle had had her killed for the embarrassment she had heaped upon the entire family with her mockery.
Not even when Waver Velvet had single-handedly destroyed an immense part of the Meluastea's operations in Mesopotamia seven years ago, a part Rudolph had been responsible for, leading to his father giving him the harshest punishment he could remember.
Today was worse, undoubtedly and unequivocally.
It had all started the previous evening already, when Rudolph had been forced to work until late at night by his father, who had grown tired of his only son's laziness and flippancy towards anything that didn't provide immediate gratification.
The man had put Rudolph to work on various projects, and had sat with him until three in the morning to ensure the projects were finished before Rudolph went to bed. Every single last one of them, to perfection.
At the same time, his father had also given a ridiculously long, ridiculously boring speech, about how important family was and how he should be honoured to be a part of the Meluastea. The Meluastea were a 'loving family', his father claimed, and Rudolph should show some appreciation for being allowed to be a part of it.
Pure nonsense of course. Carolus Meluastea, Rudolph's father, wouldn't know what a loving family was if it bit him in the butt. The man was a psychopath, one half cold, unfeeling golem and one half equally cold, equally unfeeling lizard.
The man had forgotten his own, ten-year-old son in a distant city for two whole days! Rudolph might be a slimy man himself, but even he didn't do that.
So no, Rudolph had hated having to listen to his father prattle on; he had hated it even more than the work itself, by an order of magnitude at least. Which was why he'd been incredibly glad when he'd finished the projects and had been allowed to leave his father's presence and go to bed, where he had settled into his blankets for a nice, long sleep...
…Only to be awoken by his manservant long before the agreed-upon time. Rudolph, who had always been a slow riser, had been literally dragged out of his bed by said manservant, and when he'd demanded an explanation from the man, he'd gotten one that almost made his heart give out.
His manservant was an old, respectable, and highly competent man who had served Rudolph for well over a decade. In all that time, the man had never shown any emotion or made a single mistake, even when Rudolph was in one of his unreasonable moods. It was safe to say that the manservant was unflappable.
Until today apparently. The man's face had been pasty white when he woke Rudolph up, and it was with a terrified voice that he informed his master about the fact that the Department of Policies had assembled an army on the doorstep of the Department of Archaeology, an army of Enforcers, Policy-personnel, and mercenaries.
There was no need for further explanation at that point. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together could easily infer why Policies would do such a thing.
They were going to purge the Meluastea and their followers.
For a few moments, Rudolph had believed himself to still be asleep and dreaming. That this was simply a nightmare and that his real manservant would wake him up any moment now, but the vividness of his surroundings and the pain he felt in the wrist his manservant had pulled to get him out of bed proved it wasn't so.
This was real. In some inconceivable way, the Department of Policies had garnered enough evidence that they felt confident in attacking a ruling family that headed the Clocktower's second largest Department.
Rudolph didn't know how they had gathered that evidence, and at the moment, he honestly didn't care either. The 'how' wasn't what mattered right now. Escaping with their lives intact, that was important. They could figure out what had happened once they were out of this mess.
Fortunately, his family had protocols in place that laid out what they should do during emergencies like this. The first step of those protocols was always to convene, to gather together as a family, before taking any further steps. There was safety in numbers and all that.
So Rudolph had sped towards the office of his great-uncle, Stanley Meluastea, the lord and head of the Meluastea-family, which had been designated as the gathering place in case of emergencies and disasters.
Once he'd reached the office and slipped inside, his eyes were automatically and immediately drawn towards the most attention-demanding sight in the room; Stanley Meluastea himself.
A grumpy, cancerous, bitter old man, who held nothing but spite and salt for the world and barely tolerated the presence of his own family on a good day. A wretched creature that should have died long ago yet held on to life with a single-minded vigour, probably because he knew he'd be going to hell once he died.
The number of times Rudolph had contemplated assassinating the man couldn't be counted on the fingers and toes of a hundred men, but old Stanley was tough as nails and held all the reins and pursestrings, so Rudolph had never gone through with it. He would surely fail, after which nothing but an immensely painful end would await him.
Even now, Stanley was an indomitable presence, the undisputed head of the family. He sat upon a throne at the back of the room, on a heightened platform, from where he could look out over the rest of the people present.
The throne itself was immensely gaudy. Golden, with countless gems and precious metals, depicting numerous scenes of Stanley being great at everything, and reinforced with silver bars.
That reinforcement was necessary, because Stanley Meluastea was fat. Really, really fat. Almost two-hundred kilograms worth of fat. Rudolph himself wasn't the slimmest man around, but he had nothing on his great-uncle.
No one really knew how the man had done it. It was incredibly rare for Magi to get fat, let alone to that extent, but Stanley had managed it. Not that the man himself would acknowledge that of course.
After Rudolph had managed to tear his eyes away from the sack of blubber that was Stanley, he cast his gaze around the room, finding that the whole family was present, all twenty-eight of them, sitting on chairs and tables, in a circle.
Which meant that he was once again the last to arrive. No one had bothered to inform him of the current situation, as usual, and the only reason he was even present was because his manservant was reasonably well-connected, as usual.
"Rudolph, at last you grace us with your presence." Stanley sneered, his aged, weathered face, resembling an old brick, set in the oh-so-familiar look of revulsion and disappointment. "Got lost again?"
Rudolph didn't grace the remark with a reply –the old man would just take it in the worst way possible, no matter what was said– and instead sat down next to his youngest sister, Abigail Meluastea, pointedly looking away from his great-uncle.
With the target of his mockery not replying, Stanley lost interest and returned to the matter he'd been discussing before Rudolph came in.
"That cunt of a Vice-Director had declared war on us." He spat out through puffed cheeks, a frown etching itself into the soft forehead while hands weak from age and decades of self-indulgence clenched into fists. "I want solutions."
For several seconds, it remained quiet, as no one wanted to be the first to speak and receive Stanley's vitriol, before Roland Meluastea raised a hand.
"Father, I can try to parley." He spoke eagerly, anxious not to disappoint his progenitor. "There is a chance they are bluffing by assembling an army on our doorstep, hoping to bring us off balance so we'll incriminate ourselves, and if that is the case, then reminding them of the Law of Proper Cause should be enough to get them to back off."
"Do so!" Stanley barked, flecks of saliva spraying from his mouth, and it was a testament to his immense anger that he snapped at his favourite son like that. "They cannot have found anything to use against us! My operation was impeccable! It is unfeasible that the Barthomeloi-whore managed to find a flaw in it!"
"Stanley, nothing in life is flawless." Grover Meluastea, Stanley's younger brother and Rudolph's grandfather, argued, making use of the fact that he could generally get away with more than the rest of the family where 'disrespectful' behaviour towards the head was concerned. "We should consider the possibility that Lady Barthomeloi found a crack in our defences that she penetrated-"
"The only crack that gets frequently penetrated is the one between that whore's legs!" Stanley howled, before guffawing as if he'd told a hilarious joke, and then going straight back to howling. "Which one of you did she spread her legs for to get the information she needed?! Was it you, Torben? Or you, Bastian? You perhaps, Thalia? All three of you? I am surrounded by traitors!"
"Stanley!" Now Grover raised his voice as well, frowning deeply at his elder brother's erratic behaviour. "Control yourself. This is not the time to turn on each other. There is an army on our doorstep. We must survive first, and then we'll find out how Lady Barthomeloi managed to find a crack in our defences, yes?"
"Hng, fine!" Stanley spat, the mention of the army returning some sense to his behaviour. "But make no mistake! We will find the one who is responsible for this atrocity!"
"Of course." Grover nodded, and there was a general murmur of agreement from the rest of the family.
Rudolph's voice was included in that murmur, and not just because it was better for his health to always agree with his great-uncle. He actually agreed with Stanley for once. They were indeed going to find the one responsible for bringing this army to their doorstep, no matter the cost. They would find them, and then make them beg for death.
From the looks of it, the other members of the family were thinking along the same lines as he, and for a few seconds, an immense bloodthirst filled his great-uncle's office, a bloodlust said great-uncle clearly basked in.
Then Grover started speaking again, and everyone snapped back to attention.
"Roland will try to call their bluff, if it is indeed a bluff." He began, glancing at his eldest nephew. "I am hesitant to send out the heir of our family on an errand like this, but we'll need a lot of gravitas when dealing with the Vice-Director."
"Naturally." Roland agreed pompously, drawing himself up to his full height, his lean form contrasting greatly with his father's slug-like body. "If we were to send anyone but the lord or the heir, she'd blow right past them, literally. Except, perhaps, if we send Rudolph. She'll likely just ignore him completely."
'Fuck you too, Roland.' Rudolph thought angrily, but he kept his silence on the outside. Branch-members shouldn't mouth off against the main line, that was commonly understood.
"In case negotiations fail however, it is important to strengthen our defences as much as we can." Grover continued, giving Roland a reprimanding look for his remark against Rudolph, which was summarily ignored. "We are currently in the Hall of the Copernicus, the best defended area of the Department, so we have that covered at least, but we must act quickly to activate more defences, and prepare for battle too, in case they break through."
"Nonsense!" Stanley decided to add his 'expert' opinion, whether it was wanted or not. "The Hall of the Copernicus is indomitable. You said it yourself, Grover, it is simply the best. We have mighty Bounded Fields that the enemy can never penetrate. We can rest easy."
That was true. The Hall of the Copernicus, or the 'Eastern Hall' to those who weren't part of Archaeology, was indeed the hall which had been prepared the most for any possible attacks or invasions. It was after all where the members of the Meluastea-family lived, making it the heart of the entire Department.
Without the Hall of the Copernicus, the Department of Archaeology was worth basically nothing. Everyone knew that. The Western, Southern, and Northern halls combined did not have half of the Eastern hall's output in research, goods, and knowledge.
"We can hardly remain cooped up in here forever though." Torben Meluastea, Stanley's second son, argued. He was much less favoured by his father than his older brother Roland, but still favoured enough that Stanley didn't immediately shout him down for being a defeatist. "Sooner or later, they will break through. That, or our food and water will run out."
"Kekekeke! Do not worry about that, foolish son." Stanley tittered, looking supremely confident, which of course did nothing to set the others at ease. "Once the rest of the Clocktower bears witness to how the Barthomeloi-cunt treacherously stabs the virtuous Meluastea in the back, they will grumble and buckle against her authority. When they see how she struggles to defeat us, they will outright rebel. At that point, we may overthrow her."
"And even if that doesn't happen," Grover quickly stepped in, and everyone but Stanley knew that 'if' in this case meant 'when'. "If we can last for a sufficiently long time, the attack will get bogged down, and we can negotiate an advantageous surrender."
"Pah, immediately assuming the worst-case scenario, as always." Stanley scoffed, his ruined denture making his scowl infinitely uglier than it already was. "I see you are as pessimistic as ever, fool."
The worst-case scenario was having to negotiate? No, Rudolph was pretty sure the worst-case scenario was that Lorelei Barthomeloi would breach the defences easily, arrest them all, and then condemn them to an eternity of torture. Why on Earth did his great-uncle think that…?
Bah, wondering about what his great-uncle was thinking was a waste of time. The man was mad. Guessing at his motivations and thought processes was useless if you weren't mad yourself, and Rudolph was many things, but mad wasn't one of them.
"But now that you and grandfather have decided on a course of action, there are many things still left to discuss, great-uncle." Thalia, Rudolph's second younger sister, stepped forward. "Such as the other halls."
"The other halls can manage themselves." Stanley waved a dismissive hand, turning away from Thalia in an obvious sign he wasn't interested in the matter. Thalia wasn't willing to leave it at that though.
"We swore to protect our underlings when they joined us-"
"We are protecting them!" Roland interrupted her, giving her a nasty smile. "We have allowed them to take refuge behind our high walls and mighty gates. If they still manage to get themselves captured even though we've given them every advantage they need, it is hardly our fault."
"Taking such a passive approach with the safety of those who follow us will destroy our credibility." Karen, Rudolph's 'beloved' mother, spat, obviously more concerned about the family's reputation than their actual underlings. "No one will join us ever again even if everything ends well."
"They will." Grover smiled sardonically, his expression the very picture of arrogant smugness. "As long as we offer them riches and power, Magi will continue flocking to our banner, uncaring of what happened to their predecessors."
His words rang true, and Karen had no rebuttal to offer.
"What about all the research and the resources we'll lose if the other halls are taken though?" Torben inquired nervously, with the air of a man who knew he was doing something foolish yet had no choice but to go through with it anyway. "None of that was cheap."
"Heavens be damned, how long are you going to bother me with stupid questions like that!?" Stanley roared, his belly inflating in rage as his pudgy face turned red, making him resemble the crimson bullfrog Rudolph had seen in a pond once. "Everything we need is in the Hall of Copernicus or safely put away in one of the nests. We do not need the other halls. They stopped being profitable long ago. Perhaps a good purge was exactly what we needed!"
"Roland, go outside and parley with Barthomeloi." Grover suddenly snapped, probably to interrupt his brother so he wouldn't go sprouting too much bile. "The rest of you, make yourselves useful somewhere else. I need to have a word with my brother in private."
For a few moments, nobody moved, as all eyes were directed at the actual head of the family, whose spitefulness and immense dislike of being ordered around were things of legend…
"Well?!" Said head snapped, looking inordinately annoyed. "You heard my brother! Do as he says! Get out! All of you! Out!"
Looks of relief were shared between all, and everyone except Grover made to get out of the office…
"Great-uncle, please, may I have your permission to speak?"
…When Carla Meluastea suddenly made her request, bowing low before Stanley, as was the proper procedure when addressing the family-head, and the rest of the family froze in place.
Carla was Rudolph's older sister, the very one who had put him on a horse despite his protests and had subsequently humiliated him several years ago. She was older than him by a good five years, and during their childhood, she had never let him forget that she was the eldest and thus the one with the power.
She had mellowed out considerably though ever since she'd passed the age of twenty, going as far as to apologise for tormenting him for all those years, and Rudolph liked to think that they got along pretty well with each other now, as much as was possible within a Magus-family anyway.
Which was fortunate, as Carla was a very good friend to have.
Carla was one of the smartest people the Meluastea-family had been graced with over the past decades, uniquely talented in an immense array of different Crafts, making her one of the most respected Magi of the entire Department of Archaeology, possibly even the Clocktower. She had made several breakthroughs in some of the hardest disciplines in Thaumaturgy and led a highly successful research-group. She was also a teacher, and though she couldn't measure up to Waver Velvet or Bram Nuada-Re Sophia-Ri, she was pretty good at it.
It also helped that she possessed excellent looks, with her shining black hair, adorably droopy eyes, black make-up, and refined features. There had also been talk about her excellent curves, but Rudolph wouldn't know about that. She was his sister after all.
Her talent and her looks had made her somewhat of a celebrity in the Department, but despite her fame, she'd remained ever humble, even when men and women trampled over each other to praise her.
Now, technically, with such an impressive list of achievements, she shouldn't have to ask permission to speak in a family-gathering, especially since many of the other family-members present had already spoken up without Stanley's permission and had faced no consequences, but Carla was a unique case when it came to things like that.
Not by choice though. She was unique because she was made to be.
To put it bluntly, Stanley greatly enjoyed being sadistic to her. Where for most others, he was willing to forgo proper procedure, loudly proclaiming it was just a bother, he demanded of Carla that she obediently followed every rule and guideline that had ever been written down by their forebears.
He made her bow to him every time he entered a room. She had to kneel every time he addressed her. She had to bow and scrape in gratitude whenever he saw fit to praise her. She had to prostrate herself before him every time she wanted even the smallest favour. She wasn't allowed to speak a word without explicitly asking for his permission.
No one had ever asked Stanley why he did that to her, but that was mostly because everyone already knew. Carla was a beautiful, talented, and powerful young woman after all, and Stanley Meluastea was a swine of the highest order, to the point where even Rudolph, who was a swine himself, was disgusted by his actions.
"Of course, my dearest niece." Stanley replied in a simpering tone, smiling brightly at Carla, something that made his flabby cheeks wobble strangely. "With how politely you always ask for it, how could I ever refuse? You are such a well-raised girl, sticking to procedure even when it isn't needed."
There! That was another thing that Rudolph despised about his family-head. That constant lying and deceiving. That disingenuous nonsense he spouted.
He pretended that Carla only asked for permission to speak because she was a stickler for tradition, that she didn't have to if it was up to him, but that was a plain lie. He was the one who made her do it, and he was the one who punished her when she did not.
Carla had spoken up without his permission exactly once, having foolishly believed him when he assured her that she didn't have to ask every time.
She still had the scars of the whip on her lower back from that time, and she'd never strayed from protocol ever again.
Because of that adherence to protocol, as well as her aforementioned list of accomplishments, she looked every bit the perfect young lady to anyone from outside the family. Rudolph couldn't even begin to remember how often he'd heard people praise his sister for her excellent lady-like qualities, and how she was so well-bred and desirable.
It made him sick. His sister was being treated like a prized poodle, a nice little trinket you showed off to others, all while she was slowly dying on the inside.
Because no, Carla didn't enjoy being treated like that. She wasn't fine with it. She had confided in him multiple times that she hated it, despised it, and the only reason she still went along with it all was because she had a team that relied on her, a team that would suffer if she acted out.
Rudolph didn't quite understand why Carla cared so much about that, but he didn't have to understand that to see that Carla would do anything for her underlings, whom she saw as her real family.
That she cared so much about her team also meant Rudolph could take a good guess what Carla was going to talk about now.
"Great-uncle, I beg of you, allow me to go to the Hall of the Hydra." She said after receiving permission to speak, confirming Rudolph's suspicions, before she fell to her knees in front of Stanley. "My team-"
"Refused." Stanley denied her instantly, and Rudolph clenched his teeth in frustration at the depreciating tone he used. "Be quiet."
And Carla fell quiet indeed, the memory of her punishment fresh in her mind. Only Rudolph noticed the twitching of her left eyelid, and he clenched his teeth even harder.
"The entire family is here. There is no need to go out and rescue those who are not us." Stanley continued, and while Rudolph technically agreed with him, Carla was looking so miserable he almost wanted to protest.
Almost. He was still too much of a coward at heart to speak out against his great-uncle.
"OUT!"
Once more, Stanley Meluastea began to resemble a bullfrog, and the members of the Meluastea-family wasted no time in rushing out of his office. Roland was the first one to leave, followed quickly by Torben, Karen, Bastian, and the rest. Rudolph was the last to leave, as he was pulling Carla along with him, the girl still looking as if she wanted to try asking for permission to save her team again.
Once they were outside Stanley's office, he didn't let go of her, and instead kept pulling her along, past the bickering members of their family, past Roland, who was about to leave for the parley, and past their great-uncle's closest non-family confidents, who hadn't been allowed into the meeting and were now sycophantically rubbing their hands together as they waited for news.
Ultimately, after a few minutes of walking, Rudolph and Carla reached a small room at the end of a distant corridor, a room that no one ever visited, except Rudolph, when he was tired and wanted an undisturbed nap. He quickly pushed Carla inside, before following after her and shutting the door.
Once the door was shut and he was sure no one had seen them enter, he let go of his big sister, before holding up a stern finger, summoning every bit of authority a little brother could muster.
"Carla, don't go looking for your team." He said, before immediately interrupting her when she tried to argue with him. "Don't go looking! If we- If the Meluastea win the coming battle, great-uncle will punish you again for disobeying his orders, and if Policies and their dogs win, you'll be caught out in the open and executed. Either way, you'll be screwed if you leave this hall."
"But I cannot abandon my team!" Carla spat with tears in her eyes. "I am going to save them, Rudolph, no matter what great-uncle Stanley said. I will take whatever punishment he can think up for disobeying his orders, but I will not forsake my own."
"B-But that's assuming our family wins at all." Rudolph protested, desperate to change her mind. "If Lady Barthomeloi manages to get into the Department and she stumbles upon you, she'll kill you for sure, or worse."
"I'll take my chances." Carla hissed, and Rudolph flinched when he realised she was entirely serious. "I am a Magus. Death means nothing to me. I have never committed any crimes myself, so at least Lady Barthomeloi will make it quick, which is more than I can say from Stanley or Roland."
"What does Roland have to do with-"
"The only reason dear uncle Roland hasn't raped me yet is because he is terrified of what his daddy will think of him stealing his prey." Carla snarled. "Excuse me for not wanting to stick around for that."
"He wouldn't-" Rudolph began, before he fell silent when he realised that Roland absolutely would. As such, he switched tactics. "Y-You can't intend to just die?! Because if you go out there, you will!"
"Death before slavery." Carla's shrug was perfectly uncaring, and Rudolph realised nothing he could say would convince her to change her mind. "I am going to save my team in defiance of Stanley's orders, or I am going to die trying. You should come along too, Rudolph."
"No." He rejected her offer before the last syllable had left her mouth. "No, no, I am not brave enough for that."
"Ah, but think about it, little brother." Carla coaxed him, a strangely intense smile on her face. "Would you really rather stay here, in a hole, cowering before great-uncle, or would you sally forth with me, to either win or meet a worthy end?"
"What's gotten into you all of a sudden?" Rudolph demanded, actually becoming scared of how unstable his sister looked. "We are Magi, we don't do worthy ends."
"See it as a spiteful end then."
"We don't even know if your team needs saving at all! For all that we know, Roland might succeed at turning the army away before the gates-"
With a timing that had to be an act from God, an alarm started sounding through the Department at that moment, the alarm that indicated an attack was imminent.
"…Why did I ever expect anything else?" He sighed, before he shook his head, making up his mind. "Listen Carla, I do feel for you, but I cannot accompany you to-"
"Rudolph." She interrupted him, and when he met her eyes again, he was astounded to see the pleading look in them. "Please."
"…"
Her use of that last word brought him up short. 'Please' was not a word that was employed much in Magus-circles, and having it used against him was a very novel experience, one he didn't really know how to handle.
It did make him finally understand though what was going on with his sister.