Chapter 124 - 41.3

It was a great risk, opening with such words. Even if they were the truth, considering the Neutrals were leaderless and had lost an immense amount of power, Magi still hated it when it was even as much as suggested that they were weak in any way. Frankly, Gladstone fully expected someone to shout him down now.

But no one did, and that was perhaps the greatest and clearest indication that they were in deep, deep trouble.

"Does anyone have options?" Gladstone thus decided to ask. He'd wanted to ask that at some point later in the meeting, but if everyone already understood the urgency of the situation, he could move that up in the agenda. "To mitigate the damage and restore some of our standing?"

His question was blunt and direct. He had not the patience right now for the usual word games and power plays that normally dominated Faction-meetings. He needed to know which families would stand with him and which wouldn't, which families were useful and which weren't, and of course, which families would have to be sacrificed for the greater good of the Neutral Faction.

"We, the Brishisan-family, have already purged all those with direct connections to the Meluastea from the Department of Lore." Mario Brishisan, head of said department, proclaimed proudly. "With them removed, Policies will have no cause to investigate the rest of us. I suggest you all do the same with your own holdings."

The representatives of the Codrington-family, the Dioland-family, and the Sembren-family nodded in agreement, having already done the same, and most of the remaining families made plans on the spot to follow their example.

Of course, most of the Magi who had direct connections to the Meluastea and who were about to be purged were innocent of any wrongdoing, having obediently kept themselves to the laws, but they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the Meluastea's fall would pull them down too.

They were a necessary sacrifice, and very few of those present had any trouble with throwing them under the bus if it would help save their own skins.

"I like this idea." Gladstone injected as much enthusiasm into his voice as possible, even though he considered the idea the absolute bare minimum and something everyone in the room should have done already. "Let's keep the ball rolling. Any other ideas?"

"Perhaps we could allow for a limited investigation to be performed into our dealings with the Meluastea?" Peronos Jigmarie, cousin of the head of the Department of Curses, suggested carefully, aware that his words might trigger a storm of complaints. "Merely to show that we had no involvement in their illegal enterprises?"

Such a suggestion would normally be received with scorn and rage, but both Peronos and Gladstone breathed a sigh of relief when no one protested, and Peronos looked cautiously hopeful when several families even slowly nodded in agreement to his suggestion.

"What exactly is your definition of 'a limited investigation', Peronos?" Hector Crudelis asked, his stern, weathered face expressing nothing but total indifference. "I do not wish for Policies to snoop around my business and my family."

"We hand over any documents or other paperwork pertaining to the deals we have made with the Meluastea." Peronos replied, daring to speak loudly now that he had some support. "If we do that, voluntarily and without being asked or ordered to, pushing for more will make Policies lose face and influence. By being cooperative, we will defang them."

"The Aristocratic Faction has so much influence at the moment that even losing as much as half of it won't bother them." Hector countered, before inclining his head. "But your suggestion has merit."

"We could recompense those who have suffered from the Meluastea's actions." Flovis Harway proposed once Peronos and Hector sat down again. "I have always found there is not a single grievance in the world that cannot be made to disappear with enough generosity. If we all pitch in, we can collect enough money to buy our way out of trouble."

"Not all of us have enough money or resources for something like that." Lilianne Zepter, one of the two last members of the Zepter-family, protested, her hand tightly holding that of her twin-sister, Florance Zepter, the other remaining member.

The Zepter-family was very poor, to the point where they had to live on hand-outs from other families of the Neutral Faction, meaning they indeed couldn't afford to pay any money to 'buy their way out of trouble'. They weren't the only ones who protested however. Other, richer families, such as the Crudelis, also nodded their agreement with what Lilianne had said.

"The Harway-family will be glad to foot the bill for all of you." Flovis said, smiling magnanimously. It was not an idle promise either, as the Harway-family was preposterously rich even by Clocktower standards. Giving compensation to all families and individuals hurt by the Meluastea and paying generous bribes on top of that would be naught but spare change to them.

"Those are all very good ideas." Gladstone nodded approvingly, relieved the Harway-family was being so cooperative and supporting, even if it would probably come at a cost later down the line. "Let us keep the discussion going-"

"Enough, Phamrsolone! These options are terrible!" Doris Solonea, son of the head of the Department of Individual Fundamentals, suddenly spat, taking the hall aback with his rage. "Your plans would have us crawl around on the floor, begging for forgiveness as we empty our pockets to stave off the rabble! We would be mocked for all eternity if we lower ourselves to such a level!"

Doris' face was red with rage and indignation as he shouted, and his ten followers were all in a similar state. They were, Gladstone noticed to his concern, not the only ones in the room either to look like that.

"Undoubtedly, the Solonea have a better idea then?" Suzune Kuruoka, wife of the head of the Kuruoka-family, sneered before Gladstone could say anything. "Gladstone was right when he said we were on the edge of an abyss. We lost our leading family, many assets, and almost all respect we once enjoyed. We need to lay low and be on our best behaviour. We cannot afford to take risks or to act out."

"Neither can we afford to degrade and humiliate ourselves for everyone to see!" Doris roared, and many heads nodded in agreement. "Strength is everything!"

"A Magus who kneels to survive may rise again, stronger than ever, while the Magus who keeps his knees stiff will die, stiff knees and all." Suzune countered, and the people who nodded and shouted in agreement with her were as numerous as the ones who'd agreed with Doris.

The hall was being split into two, and Gladstone realised he had to act quickly, before his Faction would turn on itself.

"I asked for options when I opened this meeting!" He announced loudly, silencing the arguments as everyone turned to him. "This means everyone can say their piece, including the Solonea. Please, everyone, listen to what Doris has to say, and let him finish before replying."

"Thank you, Gladstone. If only everyone here would be as rational as you." Doris Solonea nodded in a gesture of gratefulness, before glaring at Suzune, who merely closed her eyes in response. "It is true that our Faction has been struck hard over the past week, and yes, the Aristocratic Faction is now more powerful than ever, but the solution to our problems isn't to cower before the Barthomeloi and their ilk, to give them money and presents in an effort to please them, but to counterattack as fiercely as we can."

"With most of our power gone, we have nothing to counterattack with." Flovis Harwey protested.

"We have plenty." Doris Solonea assured him, calming down and regaining some of his elegance now that people were properly listening to him. "For one, while it is true that Barthomeloi had a lot of evidence to prove the Meluastea had broken laws, she should have presented that evidence to a grand jury of all Ruling Families before taking action. Her failure to do so is a serious breach of protocol, and if we hammer her hard enough on that, she might back down."

"That's a big if." Suzune Kuruoka scoffed.

"Additionally, we may have been weakened, but we aren't without influence yet." Doris continued as if he hadn't heard her. "We spent years burying moles in the Aristocratic Faction, through bribery and blackmail, and if there was ever a time to use them, it is now. We will undermine Barthomeloi and weaken her enough that she will hesitate to continue pursuing us."

This time, no one had any immediate rebuttal.

"Our best option though is to make a temporary alliance with the Democratic Faction." This suggestion from Doris had a lot of people sit up straighter, and several whispered conversations were audible soon after. "I am aware of course that our stance on Clocktower politics is diametrically opposed to that of the Democrats. However, a crisis always makes for unlikely allies, and at this point in time, our interests align with theirs."

"And what are those interests?" Mario Brishisan asked, not disparagingly, but contemplatively.

"To stop Policies and the Aristocratic Faction in their tracks of course." Doris answered. "Balance between the Factions must be restored, and the only way we have to achieve such a thing now is to unite against the Aristocrats."

"I agree, Doris, and the Democrats should be able to see that as well." Suzune had suddenly done a complete turn-around on the matter of listening to Doris, but since that was fairly normal for Magi, no one paid it any mind. "Yes, I think they would accept an alliance at this point."

"Try it." Gladstone ordered, though in a very polite tone. "Send representatives from our most powerful families to make the offer."

"Brishisan, Solonea, and Jigmarie then." Flovis Harwey said, referring to the three families that headed the Department of Lore, the Department of Individual Fundamental, and the Department of Curses respectively, and were thus among the Ruling Families. "That sounds like an excellent delegation."

"We will see it done." Mario Brishisan nodded, and Doris Solonea and Peronos Jigmarie agreed a moment later. "We shall create a preliminary contract for the alliance between the Neutrals and the Democrats, and we shall make sure everyone here gets the opportunity to assess it for themselves before we present it to them."

"Excellent!" Gladstone clasped his hands together in joy, elated that the first meeting he had ever presided over was going so very well. If this kept up, his position at temporary chairman might very well become a permanent position instead, which would considerably increase his influence in the Faction.

"There is no more use in continuing this meeting until we have the answer from the Democrats." Suzune spoke up again. "We will depart now and reconvene when the Democrats have made their decision."

"Wha? Wait, no! There is one last matter to discuss before you go!" Gladstone held up his hands in a panic to stop anyone from leaving, undoubtedly looking like a fool, and he mentally cursed Suzune for undercutting him like that.

"What is it, Gladstone?" Doris asked, and fortunately, there was no mockery in his tone.

"We must talk about the future." Gladstone explained quickly, relieved when no one actually left. "We now have a plan to get out of our current mess, and that is good, but it isn't enough. We need to take steps to ensure something like this will never happen again."

They were proud Magi after all, from families that were centuries old. It was already nigh-unthinkable that they would be brought this low in a mere week, but to then continue on without learning from the experience would truly make them nothing but rabble that got lucky with their births.

Their very right to existence was at stake here.

"That is true." Peronos Jigmarie announced, looking Gladstone straight in the eyes. "But to take steps to prevent this from ever happening again, we need to know first what led to this situation in the first place."

"We got complacent." Hector Crudelis growled lowly. "We let the Meluastea do whatever they pleased, and we failed to properly prepare ourselves for their fall. Our Faction has been strong for so long that we forgot how quickly doom can encroach."

"That is only a part of the problem." Suzune Kuruoka slowly put a lock of her black hair behind her ear, her expression ponderous. "Yes, we failed to properly prepare for the possibility that our leaders might fall, and once they did fall, we were slow to react, but we couldn't possibly have anticipated the sudden involvement of that monster, Fujimaru."

The tension in the hall rose sharply at the mention of that name.

Shirou Fujimaru, the second apprentice of Lord El-Melloi II, a third-rate Magus with little hope of improvement, a scion of a low-ranked, very young family located in distant Japan. Basically, a hedge-Mage who had come to the Clocktower to beg for scraps of knowledge.

That was the image that most of the people present had had of the young man, if they had indeed thought anything of him at all. It was the image that most of them had of Asian Magi in general, and for the first few weeks of his stay at the Clocktower, Fujimaru had done nothing to prove that image didn't fit him.

Then the purge had happened, and Fujimaru had shown himself capable of breaking Bounded Fields with a thought, of healing people with a touch, of being able to sense everything, no matter how hidden, and of keeping up with the Vice-Director herself in battle.

Suzune was right to call him a monster. Gladstone hadn't believed it possible for a single Magus to be so powerful and diverse in ability, outside of especially prodigious members of ancient families with massive Crests, yet he might have been proven wrong now.

"Fujimaru is the cause of many of our problems, and as long as he is a member of the Aristocratic Faction, he will only create more." Suzune said darkly. "We cannot make plans for the future without accounting for him."

"Where did that eyesore even come from?!" A Magus whose name Gladstone didn't know cried out. "Is he truly a hedge-Mage from Asia?"

"I can't believe it is possible for a Magus from a family that has existed for barely a few generations to produce such an individual." Bruno Sembren's voice contained nothing but certainty. "Undoubtedly, the boy lied about his origins. He is from an ancient Magus-family."

"Which one?" Mario Brishisan asked immediately, not in a scathing tone, but a genuinely curious one, showing he too was considering that possibility.

"The Barthomeloi." Bruno Sembren proclaimed, taking the entire hall aback. "He is related to the Vice-Director, perhaps he is even her younger brother."

Gladstone opened his mouth to shout Bruno down, to deride his words and mock the fact he'd even entertained such a ludicrous thought, but he couldn't produce a sound, even with his mouth wide open.

He couldn't, for Bruno's explanation wasn't even all that unbelievable.

"I don't believe that is the case." Suzune had no trouble going against Bruno though. "I agree that he must be from an ancient Magus-family, but I suspect it is one we currently believe to be extinct. His type of Magecraft does not match that of any old family I know of, and especially not that of the Barthomeloi. Also, his behaviour does not match that of those ice-statues."

"His Crest must be incredible." Oliver Dioland seemed in a trance, his eyes glazed over as he tried to imagine a Crest that would allow someone to be as powerful and broadly skilled as Fujimaru.

"Hm? Ah, yes, probably." Suzune agreed, not having considered that yet.

"Could he be from an unknown Asian family?" Harvey Lehrman, Yvette's father, wondered out loud. "China and Japan have ancient cultures. Perhaps they are hiding Magus-families that are as old, if not older, than ours."

"But that raises the question how many more of such families might be hiding in Asia." Doris Solonea growled angrily, the thought of being fooled to such a degree by Asians visibly angering him. "Are they hiding their proper bloodlines?!"

"There is no proof of that." Gladstone protested, now fearing this discussion might lead to Doris lynching every Asian Magus he could find after the meeting was over.

"There was no proof of Fujimaru either!" Doris blew up at him, his face once more bright red in rage. "Can't you see?! The Asians are trying to fool us by hiding their most powerful families!"

"Drawing such inane conclusions so quickly is precisely why your father passed you over as his heir, Doris." Suzune snibbed, and Doris turned his rage-filled eyes to her. "If you'd paid attention to your lessons, you'd know such a thing is impossible. The deterioration of Magecraft has long since ensured the Magus Association is the only bastion of Magi left in the world."

"You arrogant witch!" Doris roared.

The entire hall then seemed to explode with arguments and rows, leaving poor Gladstone to wave his arms like a fool, desperately trying to calm everyone down.

It was only when he beat the gong hanging next to him –a Mystic Code created specifically for situations such as this, which produced a sound that, while not overly loud, overpowered all other sounds in its vicinity– that peace was restored.

"Please, order!" He begged the hall once the sound of the gong had faded. "Are we Magi or are we braying dogs?"

His question struck home, and many people bowed their head in shame over their behaviour.

"We need to deal with Fujimaru." Doris was not amongst those people however, and he immediately continued the discussion, though now at a lower volume. "One way or another, we need to take him off the board."

"Can we not try to recruit him?" Harvey Lehrman tried.

"He would never join us." Ercole Codrington was swift to shoot the suggestion down. "We have nothing to offer that would tempt him, and even if we did, he is so deeply involved with the Barthomeloi he would still refuse."

"Then use blackmail." Doris spat, not in the mood for subtlety. "Certainly, there is something we can use?"

"I have looked into him, but there is almost nothing to find." Mario Brishisan admitted, and when the head of the Department of Lore said there wasn't anything to find, there really wasn't anything to find. "He arrived at Heathrow Airport several weeks ago, but their records have been completely purged of his name, so I do not know where he came from. The Fujimaru-family does not exist as far as the Magus Association is aware. He had no contact with anyone in the Clocktower before arriving, aside from Lord El-Melloi II. His spells are a complete unknown too, as are most of his movements since arriving here. Maybe there are things that can be used to blackmail him, but I have not been able to find them."

"Then you didn't look hard enough." Bruno Sembren frowned in frustration.

"Forgive me, but I didn't think it a good idea to start poking around too hard now that the Aristocratic Faction has taken Fujimaru into their midst." Mario grunted, clearly not impressed by Bruno's frustrated expression. "But by all means, feel free to look deeper yourself. Be aware though that being caught doing so will almost certainly bring both Fujimaru and Barthomeloi down on you."

"Urk." Bruno cringed at that horrible prospect, and he said no more.

"Fujimaru is off limits for now." Gladstone decided to step in before they wasted more time on impossible schemes, as he was also perfectly aware that the boy was untouchable. "What we must do is strengthen our position and beat back the attackers. Fujimaru can be dealt with later, once this matter blows over and he loses most of his influence."

"He will only become stronger overtime." Suzune warned, but she too knew that attacking the boy now was a fool's errand, so she didn't continue.

"If it is information about Fujimaru we want, why don't we try to obtain it straight from the man himself?" Flovis Harwey did continue however, slowly stroking his short beard. "By all accounts, the boy trusts easily and lacks the caution that is required to survive in the Clocktower. If one of us could befriend him, we could find out more about him."

"I doubt he will reveal any of his secrets to someone he only just knows, if he indeed accepts them into his circle at all." Mario pointed out. "At most, you'll obtain a tiny bit of information."

"Naturally, but even a tiny bit of information is better than none at all, is it not?" Flovis countered, which Mario couldn't disagree with. "If we could find out where he lives, or whether he has any family, or what his plans for the future are, we could use that to gather even more information, and so on, until we find something worth our time."

"It is a very long shot." Peronos Jigmarie said carefully. "The risks will be high, and the return will very likely be low. I cannot imagine anyone here would willingly take on such a duty."

"Not to worry, I'm sure the Zepter-twins are more than willing to contribute to the cause of the Neutral Faction." Flovis Harwey smirked, and both Lilianne and Florance Zepter flinched when the attention of the entire hall turned towards them. "It is for a good cause after all."

"Of… Of course." Lilianne mumbled, lowering her head so her hair came to hang in front of her face. "We will do as you say."

Neither girl wanted to try and befriend Fujimaru, that was completely obvious, but they couldn't refuse Flovis Harwey. He was their patron after all.

The Zepter-family was utterly impoverished. They had no money and no stable source of income. Lilianne and Florance tried their best to keep afloat by working for other families, but even then, they were continuously in the red.

It was humiliating for the scions of an ancient family to be reduced to this, especially when the twins were old enough to remember a time when their family had been rich and powerful, but their fall had been inevitable after their father had been killed by Kiritsugu Emiya, when the twins were only in their low teens. That had already been a harsh blow, but Emiya, ruthless and heretical bastard that he was, had also taken the time to utterly destroy the Zepter-Crest, which had truly knocked the family down into irrelevance.

It was similar to what had happened to the Archibald, though the Zepters hadn't had a convenient scapegoat like Lord El-Melloi II lying around.

Currently, the Zepter-twins were in the employ of the Harwey-family. As such, they had no choice but to agree when Flovis Harwey sent them to gather information on Fujimaru. To do otherwise meant they'd be kicked out, and then they would be easy prey to any vultures lurking around.

The meeting was adjourned quickly after the decision to send the Zepter-twins had been made. To continue the discussion any further would be to start debating in circles, and there was nothing that Magi hated more than that.

The second Gladstone declared the meeting to be over, everyone left to head back to their own territory. In the midst of a crisis, no one could afford to be absent from their work for a long time, and to most of them, the meeting had already lasted too long.

Gladstone was one of them. He too walked back to his own territory the moment he had wrapped up his duties as chairman. Yes, he had some ambition to make his place as chairman of the meetings a bit more permanent, so to speak, but that didn't mean he was going to sacrifice his time to it when he didn't have to. He had his own research, and that always came first.

The walk back to Phamrsolone-territory wasn't long, and once had greeted his employees, all twenty-four of them, he headed to the Workshop he shared with his wife and daughter, who were probably hard at work at the moment.

Indeed, once he entered the Workshop, he found his wife, Hermione Phamrsolone, busily writing on numerous sheets of paper, her hand a blur as it raced across the documents, writing down everything her senses could observe.

In the meantime, their daughter was laid out on a metal table, periodically twitching as the treatment his wife had performed on her started taking effect.

The Workshop itself was a large space, well-stocked too, and if one were to spend a minute studying it, one would find that almost all research performed inside was in some way related to Mystic Eyes.

It had been a long-time goal of the Phamrsolone-family to have one of its members develop a Jewel-Ranked Mystic Eye. Not just any Jewel-Ranked Mystic Eye though, but specifically one with the ability to see and communicate with the Sixth Imaginary Factor, or in laymen's terms, with Demons. It didn't matter to the family which individual member obtained this Mystic Eye, whether it was the head or a thrice-removed cousin from a distant branch, as long as someone did.

Jewel-Ranked Mystic Eyes were extremely rare however, and didn't just appear by chance. To obtain one, many generations of careful breeding was required –Gladstone and Hermione were first cousins for instance– coupled with rigorous training once a child with potential was born.

Gladstone's daughter, Ophelia Phamrsolone, was the first child ever to be born to the Phamrsolone-family to hold the potential to develop a Jewel-Ranked Mystic Eye that could interact with Demons, meaning that a lot of expectations had been placed on her from the moment of her birth.

He and his wife had spent countless hours tutoring and training her, and they had paid families specialising in self-improvement-Craft millions of pounds to have them provide means for Gladstone and Hermione to enhance Ophelia to the absolute peak of human ability. Over the years, they had subjected her to numerous treatments, and by now, they were finally entering the final stage.

It was about time too. Ophelia was pushing twenty already, and there had been no sign of any Mystic Eye developing yet. At this rate, Gladstone would die before ever getting to see the family's greatest desire fulfilled.

So when he stepped closer to Ophelia, it was with a hopeful look.

Ophelia herself was nearly naked, save for a towel that had been wrapped around her middle. Her wrists and ankles had been strapped to the table, as had her waist and her head. Long and bone-deep cuts had been made along her limbs, running from her ankles to her upper thighs, from her wrists to her shoulders, and around her breasts and in her abdomen. Additionally, Hermione had carved perfect circles in the skin around Ophelia's eyes.

The cuts had been made to provide easy access to Ophelia's muscles and bones, so that the required concoctions and solutions could easily be injected. Those concoctions and solutions would strengthen her body and her Magic Circuits, elevating her above what a human should normally be capable of.

The empty bottles lying on the floor close by indicated that Hermione had already finished the injections, so the cuts in the girl's body had been stitched shut, and Healing Magic was now slowly taking care of the rest, though it would likely take a few hours longer for Ophelia to be healed completely.

The potions that were supposed to stimulate the development of Mystic Eyes had not been fully applied yet however, and several needles had been carefully inserted into the cuts around Ophelia's eyes, where they slowly injected the potions over a period of about an hour.

Sadly enough, Ophelia herself needed to be fully conscious during the entire procedure, though she had been injected with a paralysing agent beforehand.

That paralysing agent had been something developed by the Meluastea by the way. It was really good, and even though Gladstone hated that family now for their short-sightedness and arrogance, he still took the time to pay them a mental compliment for it.

The reason Ophelia had been treated with the paralysing agent was to prevent her from writhing and screaming during the procedure. She had a high pain-tolerance, but the concoctions she was treated with reportedly felt like liquid fire in her veins, and the fact that she needed to be sliced open to apply them also didn't help.

As such, Gladstone didn't blame her at all for the fact that she writhed and cried if they didn't paralyse her. Other Magi might have been disgusted that their daughter was so weak, but Gladstone was a family-man. He loved his daughter, even if she was feeble, and he had gladly forked over a fortune to pay for the paralysing agent.

In fact, he could almost be proud of the fact that even though she had been treated with the paralysing agent, she was still able to jerk and spasm her body around at regular intervals, which was why she had been strapped to the table too.

His daughter was a little weak, yes, but the signs of strength were there. She just needed a bit of encouragement to blossom into a proud woman. Encouragement he would be glad to give her.

"How are you holding up, little one?" He asked Ophelia, softly stroking her cheek with a finger. "I hope the treatment isn't getting you down?"

Predictably, Ophelia didn't reply, as her facial muscles were completely paralysed too.

"Just a little while longer, and then we are done for the week." He promised her, hoping that the Mystic-Eye enhancement solutions would soon be injected fully. He didn't enjoy seeing his daughter in pain at all, and his fingers itched to pull those needles out. "We are in the final stages of your enhancements too. Just seven more treatments, maybe eight, and then we're done."

"It's better than that, my dear Gladstone." Hermione had finished writing now, and had joined them, tenderly taking Ophelia's hand in her own. "She is responding so well she only needs six more treatments."

"That is wonderful news!" Gladstone exclaimed, grinning down at his daughter. "Did you hear that, Ophelia? Soon, this will all be over, and you will be able to enjoy your new strength."

"I look forward to the amazing things you will achieve." Hermione added, beaming at the girl as well. "You cannot imagine how proud we are of you."

"So proud." Gladstone agreed. "The family's future rests on your shoulders, and I know that you can handle it."

Yes, these past two decades had been hard on poor Ophelia, with the endless training, the treatments, and more, but it would all be worth it in the end, when she fulfilled the goals the Phamrsolone-family had been striving towards for generations.

It had been difficult, it had been a struggle, and Gladstone didn't doubt Ophelia had hated them at some points for being so stern and tough on her, but later, when she was powerful, admired by all, and among the greatest Magi of modern times, she would see the value of the way she had been raised.

She would come to appreciate the work her parents had put into her upbringing, Gladstone was absolutely sure about that.

To be hard on your children in order to raise them into greatness. That was what it meant to be a parent.

At six o'clock in the morning, Shirou found himself sitting in one of the many cafeterias of the Clocktower. His appointment with Lady Barthomeloi and Lady Montmorency wouldn't be until eight, but he had slept enough, he had already memorised the reports Lady Montmorency had given him, and he was too high-strung to do anything productive, so he had ultimately decided to just have himself a long breakfast.

He'd bought six sandwiches with ham and mustard, a large pile of scrambled eggs, a plate full of bacon, ten pieces of toast with butter, a string of sausages, and a glass of orange juice. It should be enough to keep him busy for an hour or so, if he ate slowly.

And if he got bored again after that, there were plenty of desserts available for him to sample.

The cafeteria itself was empty, save for Shirou and a single employee, who, after selling Shirou his food with eyes wide as saucers, was now trying her very best to not look at him and to stay under his radar, fearing to test his mood.

It seemed he had indeed become rather famous, or perhaps infamous, among the general populace of the Magus Association. Shirou wasn't sure how to feel about that, but since it was probably an unavoidable consequence of his need to act heroic, he decided not to let it bother him.

As he was sitting there, alone with his food, with nothing pressing on his mind, Shirou realised how odd his weeks at the Clocktower had been.

He had achieved his main objective perfectly and almost without effort. He had Illya and her maids safely in his Vault, and the Einzbern none the wiser about what had happened. His original purpose for coming to London was fulfilled.

Everything else had gone completely off the rails though. He had planned to remain discrete and unnoticed, but that was a complete and total failure. He had wanted to learn a few things, especially about his strange affinity for blades, but he simply hadn't had the time for that. He had meant to go to the Clocktower for one summer and then leave again and never come back, but now that the Vice-Director herself had demanded he visit the Clocktower regularly, it would be almost impossible for him to get away cleanly from the institution.

It had been hectic from start to finish, from blowing up the engine of the Edelfelt's car and beating up a bunch of young, racist Magi, to storming a hide-out in Germany and conducting a purge alongside the Clocktower's dreaded Department of Policies.

It wasn't that he hadn't enjoyed himself, or that he considered it wasted time, certainly not. The recent events had just been completely unexpected, and they had swept him up like a current. Now he needed to keep swimming and not allow the current to drag him under.

Shirou slowly ate his sandwiches, savouring the taste, and he was just about to start on the scrambled eggs when two people entered the cafeteria. People he both recognised, though he had never seen them together before.

One of them was Eduardo di Stanza, one of Lord El-Melloi's students, whom Shirou had given a lesson on Curses some time ago, while the other was one of the Edelfelt who had been laughing at Lord El-Melloi on Shirou's very first day at the Clocktower, right before he blew up their engine.

Apparently, they knew each other quite well, if their linked arms were anything to go by.

It also seemed they had purposefully sought him out, for they showed no surprise at his presence and walked straight at him without pausing for a moment.

"Fujimaru." Di Stanza greeted him once he stood beside Shirou's table, the Edelfelt remaining slightly behind, though she'd now grabbed Di Stanza's hand after unlinking their arms. "It's been a while."

"Indeed, mister Di Stanza." Shirou replied, before pointing at the chairs on the other side of his table. "Please, have a seat, both of you."

"Much obliged." Di Stanza nodded, before pulling out a chair for the Edelfelt, only sitting down once she was completely settled.

It was a surprisingly gentlemanly gesture from the abrasive young man, but Shirou found it looked rather… fake? As if Di Stanza's heart wasn't in it.

The Edelfelt looked positively delighted though. As much as she tried to hide it, her happiness at Di Stanza's gesture was obvious to Shirou's eyes.

"Allow me to make introductions." Di Stanza spoke up again, before looking at the Edelfelt. "Sofia, this is Shirou Fujimaru, Lord El-Melloi's newest apprentice. Fujimaru, this is Sofia Edelfelt, my fiancée."

"Well met, lady Edelfelt." Shirou smiled at the woman, though his smile was admittedly a bit fake, both because she was an Edelfelt, and thus one of Rin's enemies, and because Di Stanza sounded notably unhappy about the fact that he was engaged to her.

"Well met indeed, mister Fujimaru." She smiled charmingly, which too was fake. "I've heard many things about you."

"I am sure you have."

"I mean it. Tales of your bravery and skill are spreading throughout not just the Clocktower, but the entirety of Europe. Even my family back home in Finland heard all about your exploits." She smiled widely, and Shirou had to admit that if he hadn't had his Sight, which let him distinguish truth from lies, he might have believed that smile to be genuine.

No, scratch that. Knowing himself, he definitely would have believed it to be genuine.

But it wasn't. She wasn't here to praise him, or to befriend him, or anything like that. She was building up towards something, most likely to ask him for information or a favour or the like. Exactly as Lady Montmorency had predicted.

"Everyone is so surprised right now that a Magus from Asia was able to turn the status-quo on its head like you did, it's hilarious." Edelfelt went on, before beaming proudly at him. "Not me though. The Edelfelt-family has always considered racism to be nonsensical, and our allies are much the same."

"I am glad to hear that." Shirou kept his polite smile in place, noticing how Di Stanza seemed to cringe at his fiancée's words. The redhead wasn't sure why though. While Sofia Edelfelt had lied several times already in their short conversation, the part about her disapproving of racism was completely true.

"Ultimately, what matters in the Moonlit World, and in the mundane one too I suppose, is talent. Yes, one's lineage is good and valuable, without a doubt, but lineage too is nothing but a factor used to indicate one's talent." Edelfelt slowly trailed her index-finger over the table, before she took one of the pieces of toast and took a bite, chewing slowly, before she swallowed. "It is nonsensical that some people, people without an ounce of talent, are elevated above those with loads of talent, merely because they come from old families, wouldn't you say?"

"Perhaps." Shirou replied, remaining non-committal.

"Similarly, those from outside of Europe should not be cast aside merely because of where they were born. They too should be judged by their talent and power." Edelfelt was getting fired up, and her speech still rang true, showing she meant every word she said. "To discard those with promise for reasons that might as well be arbitrary, such as racism, sexism, and classism, is a foolish practice that is greatly stymieing the Clocktower's development. That's why it is important that the old families are constantly checked by the new ones, to ensure they do not monopolise all resources and opportunities."

"Indeed." Shirou kept his tone entirely neutral, and Edelfelt, perhaps realising he wasn't going to bite, switched tactics.

"But I realise it is impolite to talk about politics during your breakfast." She made an apologetic motion with her hands, before taking another piece of toast. "Forgive me if I came across as heavy-handed or pretentious. It was not my intention."

Unless Shirou would have responded, then it would have been her intention. It seemed she was trying to find an angle to get under his skin, or at least to make him respond. Trying to get him to complain with her about arrogant, ancient Magi hadn't worked –though it was a good attempt, which might have worked if Shirou hadn't been on guard– and now she shifted to casual conversation.

"Perhaps we should speak about a lighter subject." Edelfelt suggested as she nibbled daintily on the toast, exactly as Shirou had expected. "May I ask where you are from, mister Fujimaru?"

"I come from Japan, lady Edelfelt." Shirou replied, seeing no reason to hide that.

"From any place in particular?" She pushed the matter.

"Do you come from any particular place in Finland?"

"Ahahaha! I suppose not." She grinned innocently, finishing her second piece of toast, before she looked at the place holding the other pieces, clearly wondering whether she'd get away with taking another one.

In response, Shirou took the plate and put it down in front of her.

"Help yourself."

"Much obliged!" The Edelfelt beamed, perhaps seeing his willingness to share as a sign that he was listening attentively to her. She eagerly took another piece, and offered one to Di Stanza as well, though he refused with a shake of his head.

The other man looked distinctly uncomfortable with the current situation, and Shirou got the sense that he didn't entirely agree with Edelfelt's words and actions so far. Nevertheless, he didn't say a word.

"I hear you are a member of Modern Magecraft Theories, and a personal apprentice of Lord El-Melloi II at that." Edelfelt tried yet another topic. "That is quite impressive, considering there are no records of your existence before this summer. You really hit the ground running."

"I suppose I did." Shirou nodded. "It was nothing special though."

"Come now, there's no need to be humble. Sometimes, it is alright to be proud of your achievements." Edelfelt pounced on his answer with a grin like a Chesire cat. "Isn't that right, Eduardo?"

"Being too humble is bad." Di Stanza said obediently.

"Exactly!" Edelfelt nodded, her long, blonde hair swooshing up and down. "Especially if you have accomplished as much as you have in the short time that you have been here. If you don't mind me asking, how long is that exactly?"

"A few weeks now." Shirou responded somewhat more readily, as this was by no means secret information. "In fact, you and I encountered each other on my first day here."

"Did we?" Edelfelt seemed puzzled by his statement, but that was to be expected. She'd been far more focused on Lord El-Melloi at the time.

"Yes, in the Clocktower's garage. I arrived with Lord El-Melloi, whom you were laughing at." Shirou helpfully reminded her, smiling inwardly when the blonde girl winced at his words.

"A-Ah, that. That was a most unfortunate incident." She stuttered for a second, but as she was an experienced Magus, she composed herself lightning-fast. "We realised afterwards that our laughter was far more vicious and mocking than we intended. We bore, and still bear, him no particular ill will."

That was the truth, surprisingly, and Shirou thus nodded in acceptance. Ideally, he'd like them to apologise to Lord El-Melloi if they truly felt repentant, but apologising was a massive matter in the Magus Association, not something one did easily, so he didn't force the issue.

There was another issue he had to force after all. Sofia Edelfelt had danced around the matter for long enough now. It was time she told him what she was really after.

"Lady Edelfelt, is there any particular reason you are here at my table?" Shirou cut to the chase, wanting to get this over with, preferably before he had his meeting with the Ladies Barthomeloi and Montmorency.

"A reason? Oh no, certainly not." Edelfelt smiled, her mask showing not a single crack, though Shirou's Sight revealed the lie in her words anyway. "My darling Eduardo and I merely wished to break our fast in this cafeteria, and it was purely by chance that we saw you sitting alone at this table. Now, I won't deny that we may not have joined you if you had been anyone else, but I assure you our intentions are-"

"We want to recruit you to the Democratic Faction, or at the very least, we want an assurance that you won't move against the Edelfelt and their allies, and that you will persuade Lady Barthomeloi to do the same." Di Stanza interrupted her, bluntly revealing the truth. "We are of course willing to pay you for this."

"Eduardo!" Edelfelt cried in a panic, grabbing his wrist as she gave him a shocked look. "What are you doing?!"

"Look, I have spoken with him before. I can tell that's he's not interested in pleasantries at the moment. If anything, it's annoying him." Di Stanza defended himself, and though he sounded confident, Shirou spotted several beads of sweat dripping down his neck, sweat that had nothing to do with the heat.

Was he…?

Yes, the man was terrified.

Shirou could see it clear as day now. Di Stanza was incredibly scared of his fiancée, to the point where he was constantly on guard around her, yet he had still spoken out now, as he was even more scared of Shirou, and he feared that Edelfelt's insincere small talk might anger him.

The man was caught in a very difficult situation, between a fiancée who terrified him and a relatively unknown Magus who terrified him even more. It would have been a perfect example of a rock and a hard place, if it hadn't been for one rather important thing.

The difficult situation was entirely of Di Stanza's own making.

He was deluding himself. There was nothing to be scared of. Shirou himself had no intention of harming anyone, least of all two people who were only talking, while Edelfelt was clearly besotted with him. Shirou dared say she'd rather cut off her own hand than harm Di Stanza.

The man was just being a coward, and Shirou, rather uncharacteristically, found himself wanting to slap Di Stanza over the head.

Nevertheless, he decided to take pity on his fellow man.

"Mister Di Stanza is right, I am not interested in pleasantries at the moment." He thus spoke up, drawing Edelfelt's attention again. "I already know that you had something in mind from the moment you entered, that was obvious. Also, I can tell when you're lying, so don't even think about denying it."

"Gh!" Edelfelt sucked in a breath as she realised she'd blundered, having told multiple lies already, and she opened her mouth, thinking furiously to devise something to salvage the situation, when…

"Forgive my fiancée." Di Stanza spoke up again, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, before turning a pleading look towards Shirou. "She was merely following the standard protocol for meetings between Magi who do not know each other. She meant no harm, and she will be more direct from now on."

"There is no need to ask for forgiveness." Shirou said slowly, keeping his guard up. "I understand how things work in the Magus Association. Nevertheless, I would indeed appreciate more directness."

"Naturally." Di Stanza nodded, before he rose. "Allow me to speak with my fiancée in private for a short moment."

"I have a meeting with the Vice-Director at eight. Please keep that in mind."

"We will." Di Stanza nodded, before looking at the clock that hung on the West-side wall, which showed it was currently five minutes past seven. Then, he guided Edelfelt out of her chair, the young woman looking awfully giddy at his bold behaviour, and pulled her along to a corner of the cafeteria.

In the meantime, Shirou took advantage of their absence to try and decide what he should do next. Di Stanza had already indicated what their goals were, and now he needed to respond to their requests in some way.

Joining the Democratic Faction was out of the question. He wasn't going to join any Factions to begin with, and even if he would, he wasn't going to switch sides now, at such a critical moment. Lady Barthomeloi and he had already fought most of the fight together, and breaking with her now would provide no benefits at all, only detriments, to both of them.

Not to mention that it would be a very scummy thing to do. He would be stabbing her in the back, plain and simple.

On the other hand, promising not to go after the Edelfelt-family or the Di Stanza-family, provided they did nothing illegal and did not attack him first, was something he could very well do. Of course, Lady Montmorency had warned him not to make promises, but he could 'take it under consideration' at least.

As for the payment, he didn't need anything like that.

What complicated the matter however was that the Edelfelt were enemies of Rin. They might not have actively attacked her yet, but if Rin was to be believed, and Shirou did believe her, then they would once she joined the Clocktower as Lady Barthomeloi's apprentice.

It went without saying that Shirou would choose Rin's side in a heartbeat in such an event, and that meant he had to be careful about any promises of non-violence towards the Edelfelt.

Maybe he should just listen to what they had to say, tell them he would raise the issue with Lady Barthomeloi and Lady Montmorency, and do nothing more until he had a better idea of the political landscape.

That would probably be the best course of action.

"Mister Fujimaru." Edelfelt said after she and Di Stanza had returned to his table, though they did not sit down this time. "I shall be straight with you. Are you or Lady Barthomeloi planning to move against the Democratic Faction?"

"To the best of my knowledge, we are not, though I am not aware of everything Lady Barthomeloi is planning." Shirou replied, feeling confident enough in that answer.

"What are your plans for the Neutral Faction?"

"Nothing. We want to deal with those who have committed crimes, but those who have not broken any law will be left alone."

"That is surprisingly passive of you." Edelfelt frowned. "The Aristocratic Faction truly does not plan on taking advantage of the current chaos? The chaos that has made them the most powerful faction by far?"

"I cannot speak for the Aristocratic Faction as a whole. I can only speak for myself, and I do not have plans to take advantage of anything."

It continued like that for a while, with Edelfelt asking increasingly specific questions, and Shirou doing his best to answer them while sticking to the rules Lady Montmorency had imposed upon him.

Eventually, it got to the point that he had nothing left to tell her, and Edelfelt ceased her interrogation, looking cautiously happy with the information she had, yet still disappointed it wasn't more.

"Thank you for answering my questions, mister Fujimaru." She thanked him eventually, before bowing her head. "Now I must request a promise that you will not join any attack on the Edelfelt-family or its allies."

"I cannot make such a promise." Shirou swiftly refused, not because of Lady Barthomeloi and any other member of the Aristocratic Faction, as Edelfelt probably believed, but because of Rin only.

"Is there any way I can make you reconsider?" Edelfelt didn't give up however, leaning forward on the table. "The Edelfelt-family doesn't lack in resources and riches. We can get you almost anything you want if you make the promise. It doesn't have to be material goods either, there are many more things we can do for you-"

"Would you make the promise if we altered it?" Di Stanza cut in again, and unlike the previous time, Edelfelt looked hopeful at the interruption. "A promise that you will never attack us is too broad, I understand, but can you at least guarantee you will not participate in any unlawful action taken against the Edelfelt or their allies?"

"I believe I can do that much." Shirou agreed slowly, carefully. "If you attack me or my allies first however, or if you break the law in some way, I will not hesitate to strike you down."

"We will take what we can get." Di Stanza nodded, before once more pulling Edelfelt away. "We will bother you no longer then. Your meeting starts soon."

With those last words, the duo left the cafeteria again, and Shirou, who realised with regret he couldn't finish his breakfast in time, followed them soon after.

It was time for the meeting, and then the trials.

"I still don't understand why you dragged me along for this." Rin said, effortlessly climbing the stairs that led to the Ryuudou-temple, not a bead of sweat visible anywhere on her face. "I am not interested in meeting a teacher before the schoolyear starts."

Rin, Sakura, and Ayako were currently on their way to the Ryuudou-temple, where they planned to meet up with Issei, before the young monk-in-training would take them to Kuzuki-Sensei, the new teacher who would start working at Homurahara the next year.

Issei had invited them for brunch with the teacher, to get to know him a bit and to let Kuzuki-Sensei get to know some students in turn. It might be a valuable experience for both parties, which is why Ayako and Sakura as well as Kuzuki-Sensei had agreed to it.

And of course, Rin had been dragged along as well, because why not? She was going to attend Homurahara next year too.

Sure, she'd done nothing but complain the entire time so far, about everything from the weather to the trees along the way, but despite her complaining, she was still going along with them instead of walking away and going home.

And since Rin had absolutely no problem walking away from things she truly didn't like, Sakura could only conclude she was tentatively interested in meeting Kuzuki-Sensei as well. Perhaps it was just a morbid curiosity to see if all teachers at Homurahara were like Fujimura-Sensei, but whatever the reason, Sakura was glad she had chosen to accompany them.

When she said that out loud however, her sister just hissed in return, before resolutely turning her face away.

Sakura then shared a look with Ayako, before they both grinned in amusement. Rin could be so cute sometimes, or most of the time, rather.

As the three girls were all in peak condition and more than a match for any stairs, they reached the temple in no time, finding Issei standing just outside the gates, waiting for them.

"Welcome, Mitsuzuri-san, Matou-san, Vixen-san." Issei welcomed them kindly, except for Rin, whom he gave a short glare coupled with his favourite insult to her.

"Nice to see you again, Ryuudou-kun." Ayako casually greeted him in return, patting him on the back a few times.

"Thank you for having us." Sakura added.

Rin barely reacted to Issei's words though, merely sticking out her tongue at him in return for his minor insult.

Issei ignored it however, and instead began leading them inside, into the temple's residential area, and towards a specific room, where Kuzuki-Sensei was staying. On the way there, they met an old monk, who immediately seemed to realise what they were planning.

"Souichirou is really looking forward to seeing you." He said, smiling kindly at them with a mostly toothless mouth. "He has been so very anxious about his new job. It'll do him a lot of good to meet a few students beforehand. Perhaps he'll see that you won't bite his hands off if he shows a single sign of weakness."

"Certainly not!" Ayako declared proudly, puffing out her chest. "You have nothing but top-students here, sir."

Indeed, Sakura, Ayako, Rin, and Issei all had top scores and were generally considered the best students of their respective schools. Not bad for a Fallen Magus, a tomboy, an actual Magus, and a monk.

"Most excellent." The old monk's smile turned a tad brighter, before he motioned for them to move along. "Then you shouldn't keep him waiting."

"So, what do you think Kuzuki-Sensei's going to be like?" Ayako whispered to the rest of them once they were out of hearing distance of the old monk. "A small, nervous, yet kind man? A large hunk who's just a softie inside? Or a thoroughly average fellow who just needs a bit of time to get used to a new environment?"

"That old monk certainly did allude to a level of inexperience and naivety that our new teacher possesses." Rin agreed, having stopped her show of complaining now that something interesting had happened. "I hope that he is a good teacher nevertheless."

"I'm sure it will be fine." Ayako tried to set the black-haired girl at ease, with limited success, before turning to Issei. "You have met him before, right? What's he like?"

"Considering he lives in the temple, I have indeed met him before. It would be odd if I had not." Issei began, before frowning as he scratched at his cheek. "As for his personality and demeanour, I'll let you draw your own conclusions. We are almost there."

Within a minute, the small group reached the door of Kuzuki-Sensei's room, and after Issei had knocked and received permission to come in, they entered the room and came face-to-face with…

The sternest looking man Sakura had ever seen in her life.

Standing upright, wearing a sharp business suit and grey glasses, Kuzuki-Sensei already cut a very impressive figure at first sight. Added to that were his confident, cool expression, his self-assured stance, and his cold, calculating eyes, that made it crystal clear he was not a man to mess with.

He was tall and lean, but with enough muscle that his suit bulged slightly around his upper arms and thighs. Sakura herself preferred her men a little more buff, like Senpai, but she could easily see how a woman who didn't like muscle could consider this man very attractive.

He looked extremely competent, completely fearless, and he had an aura of strictness and severeness around him that, coupled with his stern expression, would probably be enough to strike even the rowdiest of delinquents silent with one look.

In other words, Sakura had no idea what the old monk had been talking about before when he had said Kuzuki-Sensei was nervous. She didn't think this man was even capable of feeling nervous or anxious about anything, least of all handling students.

What really put her, Ayako, and Rin on edge however was the sheer danger that the man seemed to exude. His presence was almost non-existent, yet Sakura still felt her instincts cry out at her to be careful around him.

Kuzuki-Sensei might be a teacher now, but he had definitely been something else in his youth, something much more… dangerous.

Sakura kept her facial expression perfectly kind however, smiling politely at the new teacher, stepping forward and bowing in greeting.

"Good morning, Kuzuki-Sensei. I am Matou Sakura. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Mitsuzuri Ayako is the name." Ayako stepped forward as well, giving a nod of her head, before she grinned roguishly, making it clear from the get-go that she was not a wallflower or perfect princess, but a tough tomboy who wouldn't be cowed easily. "Nice to meet you, Sensei."

"I am Tohsaka Rin." In the meantime, Rin had slipped on her idol-persona again, and executed a perfect bow coupled with an introduction in a perfectly polite and demure tone. "I am honoured to meet you before term starts, Kuzuki-Sensei."

"I am Kuzuki Souichirou." The stern man introduced himself, giving them a nod, as teachers were supposed to give their students. "You are exactly as Issei-kun described you."

"Oh? Issei has been talking about us, has he?" Ayako asked, giving Issei a playful glare. "Only good things, I hope?"

"Naturally." The corners of Kuzuki-Sensei's mouth curled up ever so slightly for a split-second, and then his face was completely neutral again. "Issei-kun told me you were interested in a meeting with me. Why?"

"Mostly because we were curious about you." Sakura admitted frankly, feeling that lying or omitting the truth would not go over well. "Fujimura-Sensei and Issei have spoken about you quite a bit, so we wanted to meet you ourselves."

"You know Taiga-san?" Kuzuki-Sensei didn't look surprised –Sakura didn't think he could be surprised– but he did look curious now.

"Yes, she's the big sister of our friend." She explained.

"I see." Kuzuki-Sensei closed his eyes in thought, before he nodded. "As you may have surmised by now, I have no experience in teaching. As such, I will accept your request for a meeting, and answer your questions about me, provided you answer my questions in turn."

"Do we reserve the right to refuse to answer questions?" Rin asked with her idol-smile still in place.

"Of course."

"Then we gladly accept." Rin seemed to have completely forgotten about her initial reluctance, and eagerly stepped further into the room to sit down opposite from Kuzuki-Sensei. Sakura, Ayako, and Issei quickly followed her example.

"What do you expect from your students in the classroom?" Rin was the first to speak up after that, opening with a general question.

"I expect them to try their best." Normally, an answer like this would have seemed simple and insincere, merely a platitude, but Kuzuki-Sensei somehow made it sound impressive and grand. "They cannot do more than their best, and to ask them to go beyond that would be nonsensical."

"But what if they don't want to try their best?" Ayako ventured carefully, referring to the numerous lazy students that plagued every classroom on Earth.

"Then I must motivate them." Kuzuki-Sensei's voice was indominable, and Sakura already pitied any lazy student who found their way into this man's classroom. "Now, allow me to ask, what is your vision of an ideal teacher?"

"Someone who knows every aspect of the matter they are teaching." Rin responded promptly.

"A teacher who can make their lessons interesting." Ayako added.

"An ideal teacher is one who can control their students and can give them the knowledge they need to succeed in life." Sakura concluded.

"Very good." Kuzuki-Sensei nodded in acceptance, committing their words to memory.

From there on, both parties asked several more questions. The teens mainly inquired about Kuzuki's plans for the coming year, and how he was settling in at the school, while Kuzuki asked them about their experiences at their former schools and about the teaching styles that had worked best for them.

Ayako's questions about becoming a tutor yielded no new information however. Issei had already told her everything there was to know about it, and Kuzuki-Sensei had nothing to add. The school simply had protocols in place for such things, and those protocols were absolute. A teacher, especially a new one, could make no changes in that.

"There are a great many clubs at Homurahara." Kuzuki-Sensei eventually stated. "Have you considered yet which club you will join?"

"The archery-club." Ayako was prompt to respond.

"I will join the archery-club as well." Sakura smiled, placing her hand on Ayako's arm.

"I do not think I will join a club." Rin shook her head. "It is not required, and I am rather busy already."

"I will join the student council, as its president." Issei smiled, before scratching his cheek with a sheepish expression. "Or at least, that's the plan."

"Oh right, you told us about that." Ayako snapped her fingers in realisation, before leaning towards Issei with a smirk. "Doesn't that mean you get to decide the other clubs' annual budget? Do you want me to start kissing up to you now or-?"

"Kissing up to me?" Issei seemed surprised by what Ayako said. "Why on Earth would you do such a thing, Mitsuzuri-san?"

"Well, like I said, you control the annual budget, right? So you can easily slash funding to my club if you want."

"I can do no such thing." Issei scoffed, flipping his hand as if to brush away the idea. "Yes, the student council does the administration and makes the calculations on how much money every club receives, depending on their member-count and material needs, but I cannot arbitrarily lower or increase a particular club's funding. That would be ridiculous."

"But that's how it works in anime." Ayako protested, and Sakura and Rin both facepalmed at her words.

"Is it?" Issei still seemed confused. "But how would that work? Placing students in charge of student money to such a degree? It seems to me that would be a system ripe for abuse."

"Well, the plot of those anime does involve abuse of the system." Ayako admitted. "That the student council president holds back the funding of a particular club because the members of that club angered him."

"How asinine." Kuzuki-Sensei's expression didn't change, but his tone was judgemental, and the teens sat up a bit straighter at the sound of it. "And impossible besides."

"As you say, Sensei." Issei nodded emphatically.

"So you cannot withhold money from clubs that defied you?" Ayako asked again, just to be absolutely sure.

"No." Issei replied promptly. "If I tried, I imagine I wouldn't be president or indeed a member of the student council anymore very soon after, and that is only if they don't expel me immediately. We have very little real authority, frankly."

"So that one anime where the student council kicked out the director of the school was also lying to me?"

"Definitely. The director can only be removed by a majority-vote from the faculty council, and only if they have valid reasons that must be checked by an independent third party." Issei nodded.

"A school is where students learn discipline, where they can safely find the borders of acceptable behaviour, and where they learn to become adults." Kuzuki-Sensei added. "None of that would be possible if students ran the school themselves with no accountability."

"That's honestly a very big relief." Ayako laughed. "It's good to know reality does not obey anime-rules."

"Quite so." Rin agreed, before her lip twitched. "If only because I have no wish to become the student council president's girlfriend, which is generally what seems to happen to school-idols in anime."

"Right back at you." Issei, the future student council president, snipped. "I have absolutely no desire to have you as my girlfriend."

"Are you monks not supposed to be against women anyway?" Rin smirked. "Being Buddhists and all."

"I have nothing against women in general. It is only you who vexes me without end, you witch."

"Witch? Indeed. Ryuudou-kun, if we were married, I'd poison your tea." Rin gave her best witchy smile.

"If we were married, I'd drink it!" Issei retorted hotly, before he froze, and then slammed his hands together, bowing in apology towards the sky.

"Ryuudou-kun?"

"I should not have said that." Issei mumbled, remaining bowed. "Not when someone was actually murdered so close by."

The mood in the room plummeted, and everyone looked down in sadness as they were reminded of the dead body.

"I had nothing to do with that." Kuzuki-Sensei spoke up unprompted, which sounded oddly defensive yet still true, as far as Sakura could tell. "I do not even know the poor soul's name."

"It was Carlton Paris." Sakura supplied helpfully, having remembered the name from the police-interview. "You don't have to worry. I'm sure the police will find the real culprit soon enough."

"…Carlton Paris, you said?" Kuzuki-Sensei gave not a sign of surprise or recognition at the name, yet there was something in his voice now that hadn't been there before. "Then this case will not be solved."

"Uh?" Sakura blinked.

"What?" Ayako appeared equally surprised.

"Carlton Paris was a foreigner and a gigolo." Kuzuki-Sensei told them bluntly, and since all four teens knew what a gigolo was, his remark elicited four blushes. "I knew him, for a month or so, before we went our separate ways again."

"You knew him? As in…?" Rin's voice trailed off leadingly.

"I rented a room from him. Nothing more."

"Of course." Rin nodded quickly.

"So you're saying the police won't do anything because Paris-san was a… a male prostitute?" Ayako asked, less interested in their teacher's connection with the man than in the fact his murder would go unsolved.

"That is indeed what I am saying." Kuzuki-Sensei confirmed calmly, as if it didn't bother him at all. "The police already care very little about foreigners in general, and Carlton-san being a prostitute will not make them any more eager to work on the case. They will perform an investigation, for a week or so, and then they will sweep the matter under the rug."

"No." Sakura mumbled, a very unpleasant feeling rising in her stomach. "They cannot do that."

"They can and they will." Kuzuki-Sensei's voice was final. "They have done it many times before."

"But there must be something we can do." Ayako protested. "Start a petition, or protest before the police precinct."

"All useless." Kuzuki-Sensei was unbending. "They will not listen. There is nothing you can do. The sooner you accept this, the better."

Sakura clenched her teeth in frustration. She understood that Kuzuki-Sensei was trying to look out for them, to make sure they wouldn't be too upset when the police inevitably disappointed them, but his words really angered her.

Perhaps it was Shirou's influence, but there was no way she was going to accept that a murderer would get away unpunished. This had become personal in a way that other crimes just hadn't been, and Sakura could already feel in her bones that if she allowed this to happen, if she didn't take action to rectify the police's mistakes, she'd regret it for the rest of her life.

So she made eye contact with Ayako, and in her brown eyes, she saw her own feelings reflected back at her.

It seemed it was time they engaged in some vigilantism of their own.

Shirou truly was a bad influence on them.

In the outskirts of Dublin, the capital city of Ireland, a house stood silently, covered in the darkness of night. It was an old house, built more than a century ago, and for most of its existence, it had been the property of middle-class families, who worked and went to school in Dublin, yet didn't want to live in the city itself.

It was a detached house, with a lot of grass-covered land surrounding it, and although it wasn't really ornate or luxurious, it was a very decent residence nonetheless, always having been owned by respectable people who treated it with care.

Since about a decade ago however, the house had suddenly been abandoned. From one day to the next, the family that had owned the building had up and left, and no one had come to take their place so far.

The lights inside hadn't been on for more than ten years, and not a sound had escaped the premises for just as long. The few passers-by barely even registered its presence anymore, as it seemed to have disappeared into the background. It was nothing but an empty shell, devoid of any inhabitants. It didn't even have an owner.

Except that wasn't true. It did have an owner. Said owner just didn't visit all that often.

This owner had a massive collection of properties all over the world, and had added the house in Dublin to said collection about ten years ago. All those properties were the same, discrete and unassuming, perfect to hide oneself in.

The owner regularly cycled through these houses in order to remain undiscovered, making sure to keep the order completely random. If his enemies could reliably locate him at any point in time, they would undoubtedly set out to kill him, and though the owner was confident he could fend off most attacks, he still wasn't keen on taking unnecessary risks.

He had been staying in the house in Dublin for seven days and seven nights in a row now, and it was time for him to move on. His pursuers hadn't caught up with him yet, but there was no need to tempt fate by staying put when he didn't have to.

Before he could leave however, he had one last job to finish.

The past week had been filled with events of enormous significance, events that had seen massive changes wrought on the Magus Association, and the ripples of those changes would undoubtedly spread across the globe soon.

With that in mind, he had sent two of his most reliable servants to collect intel and continue building useful alliances, and now, they had both returned to him, to brief him on their progress. Before he could leave the house, he needed to hear their reports.

So the owner, Trhvmn Ortenrosse, King of the Dead Apostle Ancestors and most wanted being in the entire Moonlit World, calmly crossed his legs and looked expectantly at the two retainers who were attending him.

Trhvmn himself was an odd creature. Centuries old, extremely wise and experienced, dangerous like few other things in existence, yet he looked nothing like an old vampire was supposed to look.

For one, he was unreasonably handsome, with long hair coloured blacker than the night, skin white as fresh snow, and eyes of the deepest red. His features were majestic, his form sculpted, and his every movement oozed royalty and might.

Furthermore, the air around him was not at all that of a deranged, blood-thirsty monster. His aura was one of maturity, wisdom, and success, like a man who had built himself a solid career, had numerous friends, a steady place to live, a beautiful wife, a kid, and a second kid well on the way.

Based on his appearance and aura, one could conclude that Trhvmn was a king beyond human measure as well as a grounded man who'd been successful at life through his own hard work and grit. It was a curious mix, but it worked very well for him.

When compared to his looks and aura however, his current outfit fell massively out of tone. Instead of a sharp suit or flowing robes, like one would have expected of him, Trhvmn wore a black T-shirt adorned with Iron Maiden-regalia, torn jeans, a faded black belt, cheap sneakers, and a baseball cap, which had been placed backwards on his head.

His delinquent way of clothing clashed horribly with his air of a mature and responsible man, and it wouldn't be strange to think that this was perhaps a misguided attempt from a man rapidly approaching middle-age to recapture some of his fast-disappearing youth. No, it wouldn't be strange at all to think that, but it would also be dead wrong.

This was a creature with eternal youth after all. The clothes meant nothing to him. They were merely the first outfit he'd come across when entering Dublin, and he hadn't been in the mood to look any further.

Besides, he wasn't the only one in that house who was dressed strangely. In fact, his companions' state of dress was even odder than his.

"Tsula." He addressed one of the two companions, and his voice flowed like the sweetest of honey, perfect without a single blemish. "Tell me, what have you learned in London?"

Tsula'Yurha, the twenty-fifth Dead Apostle Ancestor, obediently stepped forward, bowing deeply in greeting. She was the youngest of the Ancestors, with barely more than a century of living under her belt, but she was strong, cunning, and determined, which had enabled her to claim a place as Ancestor ahead of many other contenders, most of whom were older than her.

She was very capable, and her serious, dedicated nature made her an excellent pick whenever Trhvmn needed to have a problem fixed quickly with the least amount of complications and collateral damage.

Unlike the older Ancestors, such as Merem and Fina-Blood Svelten, who were a little rebellious and capricious at times, Tsula was completely devoted to Trhvmn. She had been changed into her current state by him, at her request, after she'd been beaten half to death by her father and elder brother, and ever since then, she'd been like an extension of his will.

The moment after he'd turned her, she eagerly followed his orders to sever her links with her past by slaughtering her family. Not just her father and brother, but also her little sisters and her mother.

She had then further proven her devotion by unrelentingly pursuing power until she'd been able to take the place of the twenty-fifth, so as to be more useful to him. Many other Apostles looked down on her for it, for attaining such a prestigious position merely to serve someone else, but she didn't care about that one bit. All she cared about was serving him.

When Tsula rose from her bow, Trhvmn took a moment to study her, though he couldn't see much of her. She was covered in clothes from head to toe, with not a single inch of her skin showing anywhere.

From what she had told him, Trhvmn knew that it started with woollen underwear, covered by a thick underlayer, covered by another underlayer, covered by warm clothes, covered by an isolating jacket, covered with a long coat, and then finally covered again by a poncho. On her feet, she wore three layers of socks, topped off by winter boots, while her head was covered by four caps and a hood. The lower half of her face was hidden by three scarves, while the top half had been covered by ski-goggles.

In short, she looked ready to go to Antarctica and study penguins in their natural habitat at night while still comfortably warm.

"Lord Trhvmn." She spoke up, her voice shrill and broken like shards of ice. "It is as you feared. The Meluastea and their underlings have fallen, at the hands of the Barthomeloi girl. Many have died already, and it is expected that many more will die in the days to come."

"That is less than welcome news." Trhvmn replied, his handsome face momentarily expressing deep regret, though neither of the servants could tell if it was sincere. "Many of our agents were hiding among the Meluastea and their Neutral Faction. We have almost certainly lost most of them, if not all."

"With respect, lord Trhvmn, this is not a great loss." Tsula tried to console him. "Those agents were but pawns in your great game."

"Pawns they might have been, but they were useful pawns." Trhvmn gently corrected her, like a loving father would correct his beloved daughter. "Their absence has rendered me blind to the events taking place in the Clocktower. More agents will have to be sent or tempted into our service, and that will take time. Time we scarcely have."

"Of course, forgive my stupidity, my lord." Tsula apologised sincerely. "If it is your will, I will recruit many more agents into your service, in all Factions and departments this time."

"You will not recruit anyone, Tsula, you do not have the required subtlety or the ability to discern what humans desire." Trhvmn shook his head, refusing her offer. Tsula was useful and competent, but only as long as she didn't have to interact with other sapient beings, as her social skills left much to be desired. Sending her to recruit spies would be a disaster. "I have other work for you, which better fits your capabilities."

"What is it?" Tsula gave not a single sign of disappointment when Trhvmn refused her initial offer, merely shifting her attention towards her upcoming mission.

"Our agents in the Meluastea's Neutral Faction were indeed nothing more than pawns, without any information to give to the Clocktower's interrogators." Trhvmn began, crossing his arms slowly. "But there are a few Magi in the Wandering Sea who know more about my plans. They too are my agents, but I fear that the Meluastea's fall might make them disloyal, and tempt them to switch sides, trading the information that they have for a pardon. I do not want that information to get out, much less reach Barthomeloi."

"Shall I retrieve them and bring them to you, or shall I silence them permanently?"

"I have no more use for them. Infiltrate the Wandering Sea and kill them all." Trhvmn said, before looking right into the ski-goggles. A wealth of information then passed from his mind to hers, a spark of pure knowledge beaming across the two metres separating them, and within a nanosecond, Tsula had all the names and images of those he wanted dead.

Telepathic communication sure was useful sometimes.

"It will be done before dawn." She promised him, before she turned around resolutely and left the room.

Neither Trhvmn nor the other servant doubted for a moment that she was capable of performing the job. Tsula was very powerful, and had abilities that made her extremely suited for assassination. Even the Wandering Sea, which held Magi of a calibre far higher than the Clocktower's average, would not be able to stop her unless they specifically prepared themselves beforehand.

Tsula's powers and abilities were focused around Cold. She had a lot of ice-spells, and the ability to call blizzards of varying strength and size into existence, but her most powerful tool was undoubtedly her Reality Marble.

Activating that Reality Marble changed Tsula into a void that absorbed all heat and rendered everything around her frozen and deceased. It made her uniquely suited for killing living creatures, which needed warmth to survive.

Trhvmn had heard somewhere that the universe's natural state was a complete and total absence of light and warmth, a state in which all atoms were locked in place. The longer Tsula kept her Reality Marble active, the more the world around her began to regress to that state.

The name of the Reality Marble, which also doubled as Tsula's title as the twenty-fifth, was 'Void Song'. The ability to return Reality to the Void that was before the universe came into existence.

Of course, to actually continue to the point where the entire universe ceased to exist was impossible for Tsula. Currently, she was limited to affecting a large town at most before her Reality Marble began to take its toll on her, and if she tried to go much further than that, her own powers would tear her apart. Despite that limitation however, Void Song was a nigh-undefeatable weapon at close range.

One would have to be capable of surviving in space if one wanted to fight Tsula. Magi and other Magical Creatures did possess a measure of resistance against her ability –the more power one had, the better they could resist the Void Song– but even with that resistance, fighting Tsula was a nightmare for any living being.

Trhvmn's agents in the Wandering Sea would not be a problem for much longer, that was certain. They'd be ice statues before morning.

As the female Ancestor left to carry out her task, Trhvmn turned towards the other being who he'd summoned that day. So far, that being had remained on his knees, not having spoken a word, but with his king's attention focused squarely on him, he rose immediately.

Marol'Droth was also a Dead Apostle Ancestor, the twenty-second to be precise. He was fairly young as well, though still more than twice Tsula's age. He too had been changed into his current form by Trhvmn himself, and he too had undergone the change voluntarily.

But while Tsula's and Marol's backstories were largely similar, their appearances could not have been more different. Where Tsula had chosen to cover herself from head to toe in clothing, Marol was naked, except for a tiny loincloth that only just preserved his modesty and sandals that protected his feet from irritants on the ground.

It was impossible to tell what Tsula looked like, as she had obscured her form, but Marol completely bared himself to the world, showing his handsomeness without compunction.

Both Trhvmn and Marol were handsome men, but where Trhvmn could be described as noble and regal, Marol was more of a heartthrob.

His face was handsome yet cute, with large, dark eyes that seemed to permanently be set in a pining look, and full, pouty lips that begged for a kiss. His body was muscled, and his hair fell all the way to the small of his back. His hair, teeth, and nails were meticulously kept, and he was shaven all over except for the hair on his head. His tanned skin was shiny, suggesting he'd recently oiled himself.

Add to that the fact that he was an actual vampire, and he seemed like a teenage girl's fantasy come to life.

Not that Trhvmn cared about that. He had long since lost all carnal desire and passionate feelings. All that mattered to him was Marol's power and devotion to him, both of which were beyond reproach.

"My gracious Overlord." Marol said once Trhvmn gave him permission to speak, bringing a hand to his unbeating heart, his voice heavy and throaty. "I bring good news."

"Do you? Excellent." Trhvmn smiled, feeling how a weight was lifted from his shoulders. Marol's mission had been of the utmost importance after all, and though Marol was capable enough to handle it, Trhvmn had still worried quite a bit.

Trhvmn had dispatched the half-naked vampire lord to do two things for him. The first was to find Merem Solomon and 'convince' him to join Trhvmn's faction at last, and the second was to negotiate a truce with Altrouge Brunestud, Trhvmn's adorable little rival.

They were about to commence the grand plan to resurrect the Crimson Moon, which meant the Ancestors couldn't afford to squabble and fight amongst themselves, as they usually did. As such, Trhvmn had decided to let bygones be bygones and reached out to his enemies and rivals to build an alliance.

Merem Solomon had shown himself rather reluctant however to join Trhvmn, and had even gone as far as to tell the Church about the Aylesbury Ritual, during which they would wake the Dark Six from its enforced slumber, which was the first step in the process to resurrect the Crimson Moon.

That was the kind of betrayal that Trhvmn couldn't overlook, the kind of treachery that deserved to be punished with death. Trhvmn had been fully intent on killing Merem himself, if it hadn't been for Gransurg Blackmore convincing him otherwise at the last possible second.

Blackmore had always been eloquent, and eventually, Trhvmn had agreed to give Merem one more chance. He had sent Marol to find and warn Merem though to tell him that it really was his last chance, and to ensure that the boyish Ancestor understood how thin the ice that he was standing on truly was.

"Have you found Merem?" Trhvmn asked.

"I have."

"Did you give him my message?"

"I did, my king, and to my delight, I can tell you that Merem Solomon has seen the error of his ways and deeply apologises for telling the Church about the Aylesbury Ritual. He swore multiple times that his loyalty to the Crimson Moon is beyond doubt, and had pledged to aid you in resurrecting our master in any way he can." Marol reported, and Trhvmn nodded in approval at the news, happy that Crown had chosen wisely. "He is however extremely reluctant to resurrect the Dark Six."

"Understandable." Trhvmn sighed, his good mood falling at the hated name. "Six was most unpleasant to be around."

Marol had never met the Dark Six, as he was too young, but Trhvmn had worked together with that creature back when their Master had still been alive, and he could say with absolute surety and confidence that the Dark Six was an absolute and utter git. A terrible, whiny being with the mind of a child that had been given too much power. A useless waste of space that was only kept around because he was the first Dead Apostle ever to be created, giving him some importance in the grand scheme of things.

Nevertheless, his 'death' had been a widely celebrated event among the other Ancestors, and it was only because Dark Six provided the easiest route to awakening the Crimson Moon that Trhvmn was even considering resurrecting that useless worm, and even then, he too had doubts at times.