Chapter 58: An Offer of Apprenticeship
An Offer of Apprenticeship
Shirou had done it again.
Only months after the Great Purge at the Clocktower had turned the Magus Association on its head, just when things were finally beginning to quiet down, the Moonlit World had been shaken to its very core yet again.
Not because of another purge though, nor because of the sudden emergence of another new Sorcerer or anything like that, but because of something just as incredible, and far more welcome.
Three Dead Apostle Ancestors had been killed in one night.
A feat that boggled thousands of minds and had caused no small number of people to get light-headed enough to faint.
Normally, the demise of even one of the Twenty-Seven was already a cause for a huge celebration, doubly so if the lives spent to attain this victory were low in number, but this time, their ranks had been depleted by almost one-ninth in the span of less than twelve hours, with no casualties whatsoever on the side of humanity.
That was so amazing that even a week of celebrations didn't seem enough, and the night itself had already gone down in the history books as the Night of the Broken Moon.
Impromptu parties had been thrown all over the world, there was serious talk within the Church to make the Night of the Broken Moon into a holy night, and if several lords of the Clocktower and a few high-ranking church-officials had gotten more drunk than was appropriate, no one said anything about it.
The slain Ancestors might not have been the most powerful or the most lethal among the ranks of the Twenty-Seven, and the Elder Ancestors likely wouldn't care all that much about their untimely demise, but it was still an absolutely unprecedented victory for humanity.
Roa's death was undoubtedly the greatest part of that victory. His foul crafts were finally undone. Every curse and mark he'd ever left upon the world had been lifted, thereby releasing thousands upon thousands of innocent victims from their torment and freeing up a considerable number of Executors and Exorcists who until now had been tasked with managing the scars that the Serpent had left upon the world. Scars that were now healing at last.
Never again would they have to worry about that monster rearing his ugly head again, which was a victory all on its own.
The demise of the Spider Queen was of almost similar importance. She'd been one of the oldest Upstarts in the world, an ancient thorn in humanity's side. Her conclave, the Spider-Clan, was the single largest and most active group of Dead Apostles in existence, committing regular atrocities even while the Queen was in hiding, and to top it all off, she'd apparently been hatching an abominable plan that would have brought even the Burial Agency to its knees if it had not been thwarted just in time by the new Sorcerer.
Everyone agreed that her death was long, long overdue.
Compared to those two monsters, Vlov Arkhangel's demise was almost of minor significance, as he'd only been an Ancestor for a few decades and had spent most of that time being relatively idle. No one really hated him personally, for he'd never actually done something big enough to be hated for, so his death was treated more as the demise of a senior Dead Apostle than the downfall of an actual Ancestor.
On the upside however, his Idea Blood, the Crown of the Nineteenth, had not yet reformed, keeping his Throne vacant for now and keeping the number of Ancestors at Twenty-Six. That made it a nice, little victory anyway.
The Idea Blood wasn't destroyed though. Killing an Ancestor alone wasn't enough to achieve that. Just like killing a Magus wouldn't automatically destroy their Crest, so too did vanquishing a Vampire Lord not necessarily destroy his or her Crown. One had to consciously target the Idea Blood in order to terminate it completely, which neither Tohno Shiki, who had killed Vlov Arkhangel, nor Emiya Shirou, who had killed the Spider Queen, had done.
Hence, both Crowns still existed, though again, the Crown of the Nineteenth had failed to reform so far nor showed any sign of reforming any time soon.
But that was not the case for the Idea Blood of the Spider Queen, or in more general terms, the Idea Blood of the Twenty-Sixth Dead Apostle Ancestor. That Crown had already manifested again, and it had manifested itself in the Spider Queen's chosen successor.
As Caren Ortensia had explained to Mitsuzuri Ayako, the more cautious Dead Apostle Ancestors always made sure to have a successor appointed to inherit their Idea Blood in the case of their untimely death, and the Spider Queen had been nothing if not cautious.
She had selected an old, powerful and capable underling of hers, a Dead Apostle who'd been with her for many centuries, to take her place should she ever die. The choice had been made, the necessary Rituals executed, and the preparation was top-notch.
Hence, the chosen successor obtained the Idea Blood of the Twenty-Sixth Dead Apostle Ancestor not five hours after the Spider Queen had perished, therefore ascending to the rank of Ancestor herself. A very quick process, allowing her to take the reins before the Spider Clan could collapse on itself.
The Queen was dead. Long live the Queen.
Of course, the original Spider Queen was mourned by her followers, and her loss was a debilitating blow to the clan, but they were not defeated. With their new Spider Queen leading them, they would rise up again, achieve world dominance at last, and show everyone the beauty and splendour of the humble spider.
Or at least, they might have, had the King of the Dead Apostle Ancestors not decided to intervene.
"N-No…"
The new Spider Queen could only look on in powerless horror as her underlings, her new subjects whom she'd only just come to lead, were slaughtered in droves in front of her.
"NO! Please!"
Clasped in heavy chains and unable to summon even the slightest bit of Magical Energy, she could do naught but wail in dismay as the Spider Apostles who'd come to pay their respects to their new queen were gruesomely butchered by nightmarish creatures and Daemons.
Right in front of her, a mechanical war-puppet, as tall as six men standing on each other's shoulders and as broad as three standing side by side, was using its cruel armaments to reap itself a way through the ranks of the Spider-Apostles, emitting pleasured groans every time blood was spilled.
On its left, a gigantic Whale-Dog was crushing the Spider Queen's forces with every step, making the cavern they were in shake so violently that the ceiling creaked ominously.
On the right, a legion of monstrous dogs, cats, goats, and dozens of other species were feasting upon all the Undead Flesh in their reach, consuming her Apostles while they were still alive, their agonised cries cutting straight to the new Spider Queen's heart.
And all the while, thousands of rats were skittering along the cavern floor, snatching up every piece of meat and gore they could find.
With so many clues at her disposal, the Spider Queen had long since figured out who was attacking her, who was butchering her clan, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out why they were doing so.
"Please stop!" She begged the facsimile of a human standing next to her, the one who had ambushed, captured, and restrained her at the start of the massacre. "We are allies! Why are you doing this?!"
"I am terribly sorry, lady Spider Queen." The figure, who had the appearance of a human priest, bowed apologetically, a sincere expression of regret on his face. "These are the king's orders. We merely obey, as we are his loyal subjects."
"We are his loyal subjects too!" The new Spider Queen desperately tried to figure out what they might have done to displease Ortenrosse, why their monarch had suddenly unleashed his butchers upon the Spider-clan, but she came up blank. "Please stop! We have done nothing to anger him!"
"His majesty clearly thinks otherwise." The false priest countered, before he fell silent, ignoring any further pleas and protests as he calmly watched the atrocity unfold.
The headquarters of the Spider Clan was located in the Southernmost tip of the border between France and Spain, in the Pyrenees. More specifically, in a cleft between mountains, one that was always shrouded in shadows, even at midday.