It was hardly the first time that the man had overlooked something. It wasn't unusual for him to miss a few details in the heat of the moment, and it was actually not all that hard to mislead him if you knew what you were doing. The woman herself had done so on multiple occasions.
However, tricking him in the same way twice, or misleading him for a longer period of time, was extraordinarily difficult. Those damned eyes of his saw much, and he was infuriatingly clever. To permanently hide oneself from his gaze required great power, the kind of power not usually reserved for humans.
"Your backhanded compliments are always a delight, my dear." He smiled at her in return, before turning serious again without prompting. "It is true that there aren't many who are capable of hoodwinking me. Few are powerful enough, and most of those with said power do not possess the required patience or subtlety. I have already eliminated all possibilities from my list, which can only mean that we are dealing with something I have never encountered before."
"You have absolutely no idea?"
"All I know is that this whole matter seems to be centred around Emiya Shirou, which puts you, my dear, in an excellent position to find out more."
"When he visits me, you mean?" She asked, receiving a small nod in reply. "You do not wish to be here yourself when he arrives?"
"…Tempting. So very tempting. My alternate versions have met his older counterpart many times, not to mention that blacksmith-possessed fellow, but only rarely have I had the pleasure of meeting Emiya Shirou in the prime of his life." A few moments passed then, as the man thought deeply, weighing his desires against practicality and wisdom. "Maybe I'll pop in at the end for a bit. You will have to do most of the talking though. After all, he is after a weapon you possess."
"…That weapon is not meant for him." The woman needed no more than a moment to figure out what the man was talking about. "Arturia's man he may be, but that does not grant him the right to wield her sword."
"But he can hold on to it, until she is brought back to Earth and he can return it to her. I might not be able to see much of the future anymore, but I can take a guess that Arturia will need her actual sword for the dangers to come, not just that pale shadow of a copy that the Grail provides her with."
"…"
"Come on. You know he's reliable to a fault. If you tell him to never use the sword himself and only give it to Arturia, he will do exactly that."
"…Very well. If what you say is true and Emiya Shirou makes his way here, I shall bestow the sword upon him, so that he might pass it on to Arturia. It is still hers to wield as she pleases after all." The woman decided. "Had she been a mere Servant, born from the Grail only to serve in a single Grail War, I would not have, but she is not."
"Quite." The man nodded happily, pleased that the woman was not being obtuse just to spite him. Some women had a tendency to do that. "Oh, and speaking of Grails and Grail Wars, if you are going to give Shirou the sword, you may be able to request something in return."
"Yes." Once again, the woman knew immediately what he was talking about, and a flash of anger, for once not aimed at the man before her, crossed her beautiful face. "I will make sure he knows how to repay us."
"Good." A flash of similar anger crossed the man's ethereally handsome visage. "I do not think he'll have any issues with doing as we say."
For the shortest of moments, their sheer inhumanity was put on full display, showcasing a rage that would have sent the bravest of men running for the hills and would have made even heroes weak at the knees.
Then it was gone again, and all that was left were two gorgeous figures acting like a divorced couple that still tried to somewhat get along for their beloved daughter's sake.
Which, honestly, was pretty much what they were.
"So that's how I will contribute to the Grail War." Sakura finished her passionate speech, beaming brightly at Shirou, her eyes literally shining with delight. "Please feel free to rely on me, Senpai. I will do all I can to lighten your burdens."
When Shirou had returned home in preparation for his descent into the Tomb of Albion, not an hour after leaving Lorelei's bedroom, he'd promptly been ambushed by Sakura, who wanted to share with him her newfound abilities and talents. Abilities and talents that would allow her to make a real difference in the coming Grail War.
Quite frankly, Shirou had never really considered the possibility of the plum-haired girl stepping onto the battlefield with him before, but now, he saw that taking her along would be a considerable help.
She might not be able to fight, but her talents were uniquely suited for capturing enemy Servants, which solved a conundrum he'd been struggling with ever since Gilgamesh had told him the Grail War would start in a mere three years at most.
He might be able to defeat a Servant, definitely so if he had the help of a decent Servant of his own, but he could not kill them without feeding Angra Mainyu. He had to capture and restrain them, for potentially weeks if not months, which was easier said than done when it came to great heroes of the past.
But now, they had an actual chance to do just that.
"This is amazing, Sakura." As such, he had no compunction praising his girlfriend, who had just been promoted to the rank of secret weapon.
"Isn't it just?!" She eagerly lapped up the praise, preening under his admiring eyes. "Aren't you happy to have me on your side?"
"Immensely so. I truly am the most fortunate man in the world. You're like my secret weapon. Ah, can I say it like that? I suppose most girls wouldn't like being called a secret weapon."
"Nonsense, Senpai. I think most girls would love being called such by their boyfriends." Sakura corrected him, being the very picture of spirit and zeal right now. "And even if not, it's still infinitely better than being useless."
"You were never useless, Sakura." Shirou's tone became entirely matter-of-fact as he said so. He didn't shout, or protest, or reassure. He merely stated something that was the truth and nothing but the truth.
"Thank you, Senpai." Sakura gave him a beautiful smile, before leaning in until their foreheads touched and she could rub their noses together.
It was an affectionate gesture that wasn't used often in Japan, but both Sakura and Rin used it whenever they were particularly happy. It was positively adorable, and a sure sign that the sisters were in an excellent mood.
As if to confirm that even further, Sakura then dropped down on top of him and hugged him tightly, nearly purring in sheer delight, which made Shirou's heart melt into a puddle at once.
That a single girl could be so cute almost couldn't be legal. There had to be some kind of universal law against it, surely.
Illegal or not though, he very much wanted to hug her back, to squeeze her for all she was worth, but that was currently impossible.
After all, he was trapped, held in place and suspended by a spider web made of pure light and Magical Energy.
Its many threads ensnared his limbs and kept him bound. They didn't leave even a tiny bit of wiggle room, and thus inhibited his every movement. Worse, they were every bit as sticky as real spider threads, perhaps even more so, meaning every attempt to struggle only ensnared him tighter.
Sakura on the other hand walked across the web without issue, doing whatever she pleased and thereby evoking imagery of a spider and a fly. Her being the spider and he being the fly of course.
It was a new trick in her repertoire. A web that could capture Servants and people alike. It was nearly invisible and undetectable when not activated, to Magi, Servants, and even Shirou, but when someone walked into it, the threads latched on immediately, inhibiting both movement and the use of Magical Energy.
Of course, it couldn't inhibit Divine Power, and it would be useless against A-rank strength or a reasonably strong Noble Phantasm, not to mention that any halfway decent Caster could probably come up with a thousand counter-spells on the fly, but if enough of these webs were spun, they could cause some serious delay nonetheless.
"I hope you like the demonstration I prepared." Sakura did her best to continue sounding innocent and happy, but she could not hide the lascivious pleasure in her eyes as she let go of him again, perching on one of the web's threads, which easily supported her weight despite being as thin as a hair. "It's not nearly finished yet, but Illya and Sella couldn't escape when I trapped them with it."
It hadn't been enough for the plum-haired girl to just tell him about her newfound abilities. Actions spoke louder than words after all, which was why she'd prepared this demonstration as well.
"It's very impressive." Shirou told her honestly, pulling on the threads and finding that they were immensely resistant against physical strength at least. "I think most Magi would be completely helpless when trapped by it."
"Not you though." She stated, cocking her head to the side as she studied both him and the web. "I can feel it. You have strength and power to spare. Even without your Divinity, you could easily escape."
"I could." Shirou admitted, before he gave her a lascivious grin of his own. "But I don't want to."
Sakura was wearing a ridiculously sexy dominatrix outfit after all, one that displayed and emphasised her amazing curves and delectable skin, not to mention that her constant ministrations were supremely pleasant as well.
"Hehe." She let out a very naughty giggle, before she motioned with her hand, causing the threads to lower him until he was almost on the ground. Then, she lifted one of her feet and stepped onto his chest, with her toes almost on his throat. "Naughty, naughty Senpai. Is a beautiful girl like me truly all it takes to bring you down?"
"So it would seem." Shirou had always been an honest person, and he had no compunction admitting to his weaknesses.
"How very… heroic, of you." Sakura's expression became slightly troubled, doubtlessly remembering how many past heroes had been brought low by beautiful yet treacherous women. "And how fortunate that I only have your best interests in mind."
"I never doubted that for a second."
"…" Sakura knelt, still with one foot on his chest and the other on her web. Then, she grabbed the hem of his shirt.
Since she'd ambushed him the moment he returned from the Clocktower, he still wore all his clothes, but now, she pulled up his shirt until his abdomen and lower chest were exposed.
Then, she placed a hand on his abdomen, stroking and caressing the skin with excruciatingly soft touches.
From the left to the right, and then upwards, before she went so low as to almost touch his manhood, though she teasingly turned back at the last moment.
Shirou wasn't ticklish, but it almost felt like he was right now, and he couldn't stop himself from squirming under Sakura's touch.
Her lips then claimed his, and as they were locked in a passionate kiss, Sakura intensified her ministrations.
"W-What's this for?" Shirou gasped when he had a moment of freedom after Sakura needed some air, gritting his teeth to stop himself from whining like a struck puppy.
"Just making sure you know that you belong with us, Senpai." Sakura replied, her hooded eyes making his heart beat a thousand beats a minute. "Don't go canoodling with any women we don't approve of, okay?"
"T-That… That goes without s-saying." To do so would be to cheat, and Shirou wasn't about to ever cheat on his girls.
"Good boy." The plum-haired girl rubbed their noses together again, before she and Shirou turned their heads to the side as one.
"Enjoying the show, Nee-san?"
"…Maybe I am, a little." Rin, who had been standing off to the side for a while now, admitted after a moment, flushing a slight red, before quickly shuffling backwards. "I'll, uh, just take my leave now. We can talk in the morning, Shirou. I don't mean to interrupt your fun- Woah?!"
She didn't manage to get away.
Threads of light rapidly ensnared her ankles, swiftly pulling her up into the air, upside down. In a flash, she was brought over to Sakura, raised up almost to the ceiling, bringing their faces at about equal height.
"Oh, come on! There's no need for- Mhpf?"
Sakura deftly cut off Rin's protestations with a deep kiss, grabbing the back of her head to keep her in place and using more threads to trap her flailing arms.
Within moments, Rin was completely trussed up, which Sakura took full advantage of, doing her best to suck Rin's soul out of her mouth.
Meanwhile, poor, beleaguered Shirou could only watch, unable to move a muscle, even though every fibre of his being demanded he take action and join in.
Fortunately, Sakura soon noticed his predicament, and even more fortunately, she seemed to be in a generous mood at the moment.
With another wave of her hand, she repositioned Rin to hang horizontally right above Shirou, their faces so close that their noses almost touched.
"Hey there." Shirou grinned at his blushing girlfriend. "How's it hanging?"
"Really?" Rin deadpanned at him, thoroughly unimpressed by the awful pun, but she couldn't say anything else before her head suddenly went down, her lips crashing onto his.
"Now kiss." Sakura grinned, her hand on the back of Rin's head, pushing her down.
Shirou was only too happy to oblige of course, raising his head as far as possible to kiss Rin, but the black-haired girl seemed to have found some defiance, pulling her head away in a refusal to do as Sakura said.
'SMACK'
"EEP?!"
Sakura's free hand came down on Rin's bottom with a beautiful slapping sound the next moment however, and the way that the black-haired girl's lips shaped themselves into a shocked 'o' in response made Shirou as hard as he'd ever been.
"Kiss." Sakura repeated, pushing Rin's head down again, and this time, she obliged, quickly claiming Shirou's lips. "Good girl."
The redhead couldn't see it, but from the way Rin was twitching and squirming, he could deduce that Sakura was likely stroking the black-haired girl's butt now, which she quite seemed to like.
And yes, that only made him even more erect.
Sakura saw it, she had to, but her generosity had reached its limit for today, for she pretended not to see anything, continuing to stroke and pet Rin while completely ignoring him.
The evil glint in her eyes told him enough however. She was purposefully bullying him now.
When had she turned into such a wicked woman?!
In the city of Bath, not too far from Stonehenge, a mysterious ritual was being carried out by two fugitive criminals in the basement of an old manor.
One of them was clearly in his element, grinning widely as he drew the required symbols and circles, while the other was standing near on shaking legs, holding the Catalyst at the ready, even as she wished she could be anywhere but here.
"There we are, Haruri. Are you ready to begin?"
"N-No."
"Splendid! Let's get cracking then, shall we?"
"D-Doctor Heartless, I don't think-"
"Just call me Doc. All my friends do. Or they would, if I had any."
"D-D-Doc, a-are you sure that this is s-safe?"
"No idea."
"W-What?!"
"Don't worry, girl! It'll all be fine, I promise you!"
Doctor Heartless thumped Haruri Borzak on the shoulder, seemingly oblivious to her fear and apprehension. The prospect of executing the ritual before him made him too giddy to pay much attention to the feelings of others.
Haruri swallowed thickly, eyeing the door of the basement for a moment, before closing her eyes in resignation. She could make a break for it, and the doctor would likely let her escape without stopping her, but that would be extraordinarily foolish. She was a wanted woman, having betrayed the Clocktower to the Dead Apostle Ancestors, and the only reason she wasn't dead yet was because Doctor Heartless had spirited her away just before her treachery had been unearthed.
She had nowhere else to go. The doctor was the only thing keeping her safe from the reprisal of her former masters. She was completely at his mercy, like she'd been completely at the mercy of Inorai Atroholm Valualeta before.
Hence, she had little choice but to go along with his crazy schemes and weird plots.
On normal days, that wasn't too bad, preferable even over being Inorai's slave, but today, the impending Ritual made her tremble in apprehension and fright.
A Servant Summoning.
It was a spell that Haruri had only ever heard of in rumours and whispers. A spell that allowed someone to summon a Heroic Spirit and cast them into a container, essentially forcing them into servitude. Something that was normally only done with a Holy Grail to help out.
She was no expert on Summoning, but she could easily imagine the myriad of things that could go terribly wrong with such a large and complicated process, and that meant she didn't want to be anywhere near when the Ritual was initiated.
"I have taken every safety precaution imaginable." Doctor Heartless was not blind to her apprehension, and although that would never be enough to make him stop the ritual, he did try to set her at ease a little. "Even if this goes completely wrong, if I make every mistake in the book and then some, it still won't explode. At worst, I, not you, will get a bit of backlash in the form of a big old punch to the face. That's all. Trust me, I am a genius."
"I do not find your words reassuring." Haruri huffed, keenly aware that no such guarantees could be made when it came to Magecraft. "But if this is what you want, I will cooperate."
It wasn't like she was in a position to refuse his orders after all.
"Thanks." Doctor Heartless playfully thumped her on the shoulder once more, before turning to the Magic Circle again. "Then place the Catalyst in the centre."
She did as she was told, placing the sword she was holding right in the middle of the Circle.
"I have to say, old Stanrobe really came through for us." The doctor remarked, looking with both wonder and appreciation at the weapon. "Iskandar's very own sword, obtained in mere days. Tell me, Haruri, are you ready to meet the King of Conquerors himself?"
"No." She replied bluntly.
"Me neither." He grinned, before holding out a hand anyway. "But ready or not, we're going to begin."
The stars were in the right configuration, the Leyline from Stonehenge provided all the Magical Energy that was required, the Summoning Circle was flawless, and there was even something special about Bath, something immaterial and unexplainable, that made Summoning Servants a bit easier.
The circumstances were precisely right. This was the ideal moment.
"Let silver and steel be the essence."
Doctor Heartless began the Incantation, starting out with the line that almost every summoner had used before him.
"Let stubborn stone and unyielding contract be the foundation."
He demanded a contract that was more permanent than the normal one however. He didn't want a Servant for just two weeks or so to win a Grail War. He wanted a partner, to watch his back for months if not years. It was best to make that known immediately, so he wouldn't have a disgruntled Servant on his hands who expected a short stint but got a long-term responsibility instead.
"Let the authority of kings be the power that I pay tribute to."
He already had the catalyst in place, but there was no harm in making it extra clear that he expected a great king to answer his summons.
"The alighted wind becomes a wall. The cardinal gates close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulates."
Magical Energy burst forth from the Magic Circle, spilling over as it amassed in preparation for the arrival of a high-grade familiar.
"Shut, fill. Shut, fill. Shut, fill. Shut, fill. Shut, fill. Repeat every five times. Simply, shatter once filled."
He wanted more Magical Energy, more and more, to the point where it almost became visible from how densely it was packed.
"Let it be declared now; your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword. Submit to the beckoning of your Master."
Doctor Heartless had never really understood that part. Essentially, it demanded nothing less than complete submission and obedience from the Servant. Of course, as Servants, it was their role to serve, but he couldn't imagine that great heroes would be content with such complete subjugation. They still had their pride, even as familiars.
"Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth. An oath shall be sworn here. I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven; I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell."
These high-minded words caused the Summoning Circle to emit a bright light, but while Haruri looked away, Doctor Heartless refused to even narrow his eyes, unwilling to impede his vision even slightly during this crucial moment.
"From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!"
The Circle exploded with light, an oppressive atmosphere descended on the basement, the cloud of Magical Energy ruptured and took solid form, and within mere moments, what had once been empty space was now occupied by a mysterious figure.
That they were a Servant was obvious at once, if only by their sheer presence and aura. They were clearly a being far beyond humanity, an echo from the past given form, and knowing that he was standing before a true hero, someone judged worthy by the Throne of Heroes itself, sent shivers down the doctor's spine.
The Summoning had been a success!
"You are not Iskandar!"
But then Haruri let out a cry of surprise, and Doctor Heartless' enthusiasm was doused like a match thrown into a bucket of ice-water. His new assistant was correct. The figure before them was definitely not the legendary King of Conquerors who had served Waver Velvet in the Fourth Holy Grail War.
Instead, they were a beautiful young woman with a distinctly royal and haughty appearance, long black hair, an outfit consisting of a dark-brown top and skirt as well as a red cloak, and heterochromatic eyes, with one appearing to be a very pale grey with a slight goldish tint, while the other was blue.
Mystic Eyes, obviously.
"Heh. Wrong." The unknown Servant let out a huff of amusement at Haruri's cry, and when she rose from her kneeling position, she revealed a smug grin that fit perfectly on her haughty face. "Of course I am Iskandar. Iskandar's Shadow, to be precise."
Her voice was like her appearance, haughty, beautiful, and elegant, but the two Magi were more interested in her words than her voice.
"Iskandar's Shadow? As in, body-double?" Doctor Heartless asked, cocking his head to the side. "But you look nothing like the man described by Waver Velvet. Or do you perhaps mean that you are his Magical Shadow, bearing his name to absorb Curses aimed at him?"
"You are a bright one, Master." The woman kept her smug grin in place, even as her amusement waned slightly. "Yes, I am his Magical Shadow, bearing his name so to be his shield against Curses."
"Then what is your own name, if you possess one?"
"I was never given a name of my own. Some called me Hephaestion, though that was my brother's name, others called me Shadow, but I prefer to be called Faker."
"Faker?"
"Servant Faker. I have come in accordance to your call, Master. Command me well, and I will see you to victory."
She coupled her oath with a shallow bow, her eyes fixed on his right hand, where three glowing Command Seals had now appeared. The Command Seals that signified their bond and allowed him to issue her three absolute commands.
"Servant Faker." Doctor Heartless had never even heard of that Class before, but he certainly wasn't disappointed. It offered interesting prospects, and it also wasn't unpleasant to know it was possible to go above and beyond the playbook that the Einzbern had developed. "Welcome. I take it you listened carefully to my Summoning Chant?"
"There's no Grail here. You just need someone to guard and shadow you." She summarised, correctly. "I have plenty of experience with that sort of thing. I will serve you, Master, exactly as you specified."
"And your reasons for answering my call?" Doctor Heartless knew there were plenty of Heroic Spirits in the Throne who would answer a Summoning like his out of curiosity, battle lust, or sheer boredom, but this woman seemed to above such petty matters.
"You seem like someone worth following." Her reply was vague and unsatisfactory, but the doctor left it at that, having not expected a proper answer anyway. He didn't want to push her so early in their partnership.
"This is Haruri Borzak, by the way." He then introduced his assistant, who'd mostly just been staring at the Servant with wonder and amazement. "She's my ally. She'll be accompanying us too. Say hello, Haruri."
"H-Haruri Borzak. A-A pleasure to meet you." She stuttered, though her curtsy was flawless.
"The pleasure is all mine." Once more displaying excellent manners that belied a noble or royal upbringing, Faker returned the curtsy. "I look forward to working with you."
"R-Right. Me too."
"But Master, there are two things I must discuss with you before we can continue." Faker turned back to Doctor Heartless, a frown parked between her eyebrows. "First, my upkeep."
"I can give you three square meals a day, and an allowance for snacks." He had money aplenty, so offering her sustenance was no issue. When her frown deepened however, he realised he was perhaps misunderstanding her. "Ah, but perhaps you speak of Magical Energy? For the moment, I am supplying you with nearly all I have. Is it not sufficient?"
"It is less than ideal." She replied bluntly, showing no compunction about trampling all over his pride as a Magus. "It is more than enough to keep me materialised, and I can use my skills, sparingly, but I cannot use my Noble Phantasm like this."
"Skills? Noble Phantasm?" Haruri muttered questioningly, having no idea what those terms were supposed to mean.
"Skills are the embodiment of a Servant's various abilities and characteristics." Doctor Heartless muttered back, keenly aware that Faker could hear them perfectly well. Fortunately, she seemed content to wait for the moment. "While Noble Phantasms are "crystallized Mysteries" that form the weapons or abilities owned by Heroic Spirits, embodying the ultimate accomplishments of a hero as symbols of their existence through historical fact and anecdotes."
"…Huh?"
"I'll explain in more detail later." For now, he had no time to give a lecture, not with his Servant waiting for him. "I have more sources of Magical Energy prepared, Faker. Enough to give you all the power you could ever need."
"That is quite the boast. I hope you can live up to it." Faker clearly didn't believe him yet, but that was fine. She would, once she saw his preparations for herself. "Fine, that concludes the first matter. Now for the second, which, depending on your perspective, might be even more important than the first."
"More important than your upkeep?" That sounded either exciting or ominous, and Doctor Heartless just knew this was going to be good. "What could that be?"
"The fact that someone is hiding up the staircase, spying on us." Faker replied matter-of-factly, gesturing at said staircase, leading up to the door to the main floor of the manor. "They've been there since I've been Summoned, probably before too."
Doctor Heartless maintained his calm, affable smile even as his heart skipped a beat and adrenaline was pumped straight into his system. He turned towards the intruder with a slow turn, expertly hiding the fact that he was frantically trying to work out why his alarms hadn't notified him.
"I should have known that a Servant would not be as easy to fool as a Magus." The door opened, and the intruder stepped inside, showing not a hint of embarrassment or fear over being caught. He was a tall man, clad in church-robes and carrying a cross around his neck, leaving no doubt about his affiliation. "I have more experience with Heroic Spirits than almost any other person alive, and yet you do keep on surprising me. I am humbled."
Though he had been discovered and now found himself alone in a room with two Magi and their Servant, the priest did not seem concerned. His lips were shaped in a lazy smile, and his stride as he descended the stairs was calm and assured.
"What is the Burial Agency doing here?!" Haruri asked shrilly, having gone pale in shock and alarm. "H-How did you find us?"
"I am at the present time not a representative of the Burial Agency. I am here of my own accord, because I was curious. I have quite a bit of experience with the Summoning Ritual, so I noticed that someone was preparing it nearby."
"So you claim to have experience with both Servants and the Summoning Ritual?" Doctor Heartless asked, calming down as he took control over the situation again. "Then you must be Kirei Kotomine, the Master of Assassin in the previous Grail War."
"Correct, or at least, I used to be the Master of Assassin." The priest, Kotomine, confirmed, almost looking a tad nostalgic for a moment, before it disappeared under professionalism that both suited him very well and yet seemed completely at odds with him. "For the next Grail War, the Fifth, I am the overseer, charged with punishing the rulebreakers. I may have had to leave Fuyuki for certain, irrelevant reasons, but even so, I am bound to carry out my duties anyway, even here in Bath."
"We have broken no rules. I Summoned a Servant for reasons unrelated to the Grail War."
"I beg to differ. Regardless of your reasons, you have broken the rules. It falls to me to rectify this."
"Nonsense." Faker suddenly cut in, smirking with dark amusement as she gave the priest a challenging stare. "You couldn't care less about the rules. You just want to have some fun."
"…Indeed." Kotomine confirmed, and his fake professionalism made way for a far truer smirk. "I confess that I am quite eager to measure myself against a Grailless Servant. Depleted as you are of Magical Energy, I might even stand a chance at winning."
"No, you don't."
That was all Faker had to say before she rushed at the priest so quickly that neither Doctor Heartless nor Haruri could follow her, her sword at the ready as she moved in for the kill.
Kotomine had been prepared however, and the basement was filled with the sound of metal grating on metal as he intercepted the sword with his Black Keys.
Faker disengaged in the blink of an eye, and then charged again, aiming to run the priest through.
He dodged, side-stepping the attack, and attempted an attack of his own, but he had to abort to defend himself as Faker lashed out with a kick.
All that happened in the space of a single moment, and then they sped up even more, to the point where Doctor Heartless and Haruri could only see blurs rushing across the room, moving faster than the eye could see.
The effect of the battle was extremely visible however, as the basement was torn apart from the force. The ground cracked, the walls broke, and the two Magi had to run for cover not to get caught in the crossfire.
"W-Who is winning?!" Haruri shouted over the noise.
"No idea!" Doctor Heartless shouted back, thrilled by this new development. Who would have thought he could test his Servant only moments after Summoning her?
Straining and Reinforcing his eyes as much as he dared, he managed to catch a few glimpses here and there.
Faker slashed at the priest's neck, before chaining it into a slash down on his head, and then a stab into the gut.
Then they were blurs again.
The next moment, the priest lashed out with his Black Keys as if they were claws, not batting an eye as they were smashed to bits by Faker.
Blurs again.
They stopped, blades locked again, sword against new Black Keys, as they tried to overpower each other.
The outcome was never in doubt though. The priest was pushing with all his might and weight, straining for all he was worth, while Faker used only one hand, looking faintly amused and perhaps the slightest bit impressed.
Then she pushed harder, to break the lock, but stumbled when the priest suddenly gave way, denying her the resistance she'd expected.
It was a tiny opening, an extremely short moment of weakness, and Kotomine capitalised on it, striking the Servant on the jaw with a right hook.
It was a mighty punch indeed, powerful enough to not just knock a man out, but blow the lower jaw clean off. It was clearly a move the priest had used more often, and Doctor Heartless felt a stab of pity for whoever had been on the receiving end.
Faker just took it though, not even moving her jaw in response.
The next moment, she kicked the priest in the chest, with enough force that his ribs would have been crushed to a pulp had it not been for his protections and defensive gear.
It still launched him into the wall behind him, and though he yet lived, he did not get up unscathed, clutching his chest as he spat up a wad of blood.
He was wounded, but his injury did nothing to diminish his battle lust, and he lifted his Black Keys again…
"That is enough."
Faker seemed to have lost her enthusiasm for the battle however. Her eyes glowed orange, signifying the activation of her Mystic Eyes, and the priest's body seized up.
"M-Mystic Eyes of C-Compulsion." Kotomine did manage to force a few words out of his throat however, still looking unbearably smug despite his perilous situation. "You truly are dangerous, Faker. Perhaps engaging you myself was not the wisest of ideas."
"You should not have come here alone." Faker agreed, her eyes going down to his neck, undoubtedly envisioning how she would snap it. "For a capable warrior like yourself, that was a very foolish decision."
"It would have been, yes, had I truly come alone." The smug smile widened a tiny bit. "But I am merely the humble vanguard."
There was a moment of silence as the two Magi and the Servant processed those words, before that silence was interrupted.
By a slow clapping.
Coming from the top of the stairs.
Where yet another figure had just entered the basement.
"A most impressive showing." The newcomer laughed, dark amusement dripping from every word as he continued clapping for a few moments. "But your skills are clearly still lacking, priest. See that you improve."
"As you say, your majesty." Kotomine's voice shifted away from smugness to submission, and Doctor Heartless swallowed thickly as he realised just what manner of creature had just appeared on the scene.
It was another Servant, and a very powerful one at that.
The new Servant's red eyes glinted, as if the meagre light in the basement refracted from it, and suddenly, Kotomine was free. A cup was deposited in the priest's hand the next moment from a golden portal, and he drank greedily from it, his wounds healing rapidly afterwards.
Definitely a Servant then, and one that seemed to be operating at full power despite the lack of a Grail. At the very least, he wasn't impressed in the slightest by Faker's Mystic Eyes.
"I was unaware that any Servants had been Summoned since the last Grail War, let alone any as majestic as yourself." Doctor Heartless ventured carefully, probing for information, but mainly hoping to distract and divert. It was evident that neither he nor Faker stood a chance against this opponent, so he stalled, hoping that an opportunity to escape would present itself within the next minute.
"They haven't." The priest replied cryptically, looking unbearably smug again. "As I said before, this has nothing to do with any Grail War."
"Then why are you here?"
"I foresaw that the King of Conquerors would be Summoned here tonight, so I came to see him for myself." The golden Servant narrowed his eyes, studying Faker like she was a disappointing specimen. "I see now that I drew conclusions too hastily though. You are not Iskandar, you are merely his shadow."
"His shadow is all I ever wanted to be." Faker ground out, her beautiful face contorted in an expression of impotent rage. Freshly Summoned and weakened, she stood no chance against a Servant who was somehow at full power, so she controlled herself, though that didn't stop her from trying to punch a hole through his skull with her eyes alone.
"Ha! Oaf he may be, but he certainly inspires loyalty. You and that boy would hate each other at first sight, I can already tell." The other Servant laughed shamelessly.
"…Do not call my king an oaf."
"You deny that he was one? Or do you think that you are the only one allowed to call him such?"
Judging from Faker's expression, it was the second one. Literally everyone in the basement could see that.
"How adorable." The priest smiled.
"Shut up!" She hissed at him in response. "Do not mention my king again. Your foul tongues only sully his honour."
"Foul tongues?" The golden-haired Servant lifted a brow, looking more bemused than angry, but knowing that could change on a dime if Faker kept on insulting him, Doctor Heartless quickly stepped in to buy some more time.
The stalling was going very well, but he needed a few minutes more to arrange their escape. Minutes he wouldn't get unless he silenced Faker for the moment and changed the topic before the other Servant or the priest could take real insult.
"We are not participants in the war for the Holy Grail, so there is no need for the honoured overseer or such a mighty Servant to interfere." He said, attempting to look as submissive and sycophantic as humanly possible, before bending the truth a little. "And there are no laws against Summoning Servants outside of a Grail War."
"There are." Kotomine didn't buy it for a second. "And even if it weren't illegal, both of you, Doctor Heartless and Haruri Borzak, have committed more than enough other crimes to see you executed thrice over."
"Drat." Doctor Heartless cursed, though without much spirit. He hadn't expected the priest to buy his lies to begin with. They were, once more, just a method of buying more time.
"My king?" Kotomine then turned to the golden Servant, asking for assistance.
"I normally wouldn't bother with something so tedious, but I suppose you have given me an excellent show, Kirei." The Servant stepped forward, and his aura of power intensified tenfold. "I have seen all I wanted to see. For the crime of harming my playwright, I will execute you."
"I am Faker, Servant of Doctor Heartless and subject of Iskandar." Faker brandished her sword without fear, steadfast despite the immense disparity in power. "For the insults to my king and my master, I will make you pay."
"You may call me Archer, and this conversation is over."
Golden portals materialised all around the now-identified Archer, and from them, honest-to-God Noble Phantasms emerged.
Swords, spears, arrows, tridents, hammers, maces, and more, each of them bursting with power and ready to be fired. This would be a barrage that would end Faker on the spot as she was now, and Doctor Heartless didn't hold out much hope for himself and Haruri either.
Fortunately, their escape had now been prepared. The getaway-spell was ready.
He grabbed Haruri's wrist and pulled her along as he sprinted forward, desperate to make it in time.
The Noble Phantasms were aimed, primed to be fired, and Faker let out a hoarse cry, ready to throw herself upon them.
Just before she rushed off however, Doctor Heartless threw his arm around her middle.
"Ha?!" She squeaked at his forwardness, casting a baffled look at him.
"Let's go."
He activated his spell, the one he'd prepared long before ever starting on the Summoning ritual and which had been fully charged at last.
The Noble Phantasms were fired, shooting at them at the speed of sound and then some, but just before they could punch a hole through Faker's chest, the trio was engulfed in an explosion of white light.
Then there was nothing.
"They are gone." Kirei observed, seeing the sword and two spears that had been fired now lodged in the opposite wall rather than a Servant's body. "You let them go, didn't you?"
"Not quite. I aimed to kill. Had the Master been a moment slower, they would have all perished together. However, you are correct that I also did not bother stopping their escape. Do not ask why, Kirei, for you will not receive a satisfactory answer. It was merely a whim."
"How truly mercurial of you, your majesty."
"Yes." Gilgamesh grinned as if he'd been given a compliment, before he turned marginally serious again. "I trust you have now had your fun playing with Servants? This one was the weakest she was ever going to be, and future Servants will never be as weak as that. If you try to fight one again, you will die."
"I have had my fill, your majesty." Kirei assured him, placing a hand on his ribs to rub away a bit of phantom pain. "I will leave fighting Servants to other Servants. No living being today could hope to defeat them."
"Quite." Gilgamesh nodded, though that was not actually the truth.
There were in fact several beings out there who could match and possibly defeat a weaker Servant. Kirei himself could actually be one of them, if he truly applied himself and didn't mind dying afterwards.
There was even one, infuriating as it was to admit, that could defeat Gilgamesh himself. A Faker, though not the one who had just escaped.
But that was a matter for another time.
Fire.
Scorching fire stretched out around him as far as the eye could see.
Everywhere he looked, he saw cursed flames consuming everything that crossed their path, reducing buildings, trees, and people to ashes in mere moments.
Blackened corpses lay everywhere, scattered about as if a giant had randomly poured them out onto the streets.
The heat was nearly unbearable, the sounds even more so, and the smoke nearly made it impossible to see what was going on, all while choking the life out of anyone who'd managed to avoid the flames themselves.
It was a city on fire, being razed to the ground as if struck by a god's rage. Inflicted with a thousand years of ancient justice that burned it to its core.
A nightmarish scene by any measure, just beholding it would be enough to drive anyone mad with fear and despair.
"Huh."
Shirou wasn't very impressed though, only noting that it'd been a while since he'd last had this particular dream.
Strangely lucid, he clearly recalled taking a quick nap before it was time to head for the Carillon-Observatory. A nap he was probably right in the middle of, making this no more than a nightmare he'd had a thousand times before. A recollection of past events, which could be changed no more, even with Divine Might.
Knowing that this was all taking place in his mind, with no actual people being hurt, made it possible to ignore the sights and sounds of the gruesome deaths. Shirou simply cast his gaze skywards, remaining blind and deaf to what was happening around him.
This dream had stopped truly bothering him years ago. Ever since he'd set out on the path to become a hero, it no longer filled him with guilt, nor did it induce in him that desperate hunger for happiness that had dominated his early childhood. A hunger born from the look in Kiritsugu's eyes just after he'd rescued Shirou, a hunger that had brought him to convert his own nerves into makeshift Magical Circuits with a smile, just for the chance of being useful to someone.
He was no longer that scarred boy, burdened by survivor's guilt. He had grown, escaping the malignant influence of Angra Manyu, who seemed intent on bringing down the sole survivor of its rage. He was a happy man now, who had learned to let go of past trauma.
Which made it odd that he'd be dreaming of the Great Fire again at a time like this. He didn't think he'd ever be completely free of its influence, as it had shaped his life and made him into who he was, but he thought that he'd escaped the worst of its hold by now.
Except he hadn't, apparently.
The misery surrounding him was exactly the same as it had always been. A cruel reminder of the night he'd been reborn. The night that had killed his father, and so many others, for no reason whatsoever. The night that had destroyed the person who he used to be, and left a hollow shell behind that had only grown into a man again because of the tireless work of those around him.
The crackling of cruel flames, the sizzling of bodyfat, and the screams of the damned were no more than memories, but memories held a power of their own, and Shirou felt no compunction about deciding to leave. Staying would only bring his mood down at a time when he needed to remain focused.
He closed his eyes, really pressing them shut with every bit of power his facial muscles could muster, before opening them in a snap. His way of waking up from lucid dreams.
What greeted him next was not his room however, still cast in the darkness of night, with his girls' soft breathing being the only audible sound, but another familiar sight which he hadn't seen in a while now.
An endless expanse of red plains, only interrupted by a single hill and hundreds of different weapons scattered about, all of it cast in the light of the rising sun.
"Hm."
He'd been here many times before, in his dreams and even while only meditating, but he still didn't really know what it was supposed to be. He'd theorised before that it was perhaps his mind space, but that didn't seem entirely right. A mind space was supposed to be figurative, not an actual place in his head.
Regardless of what it was though, this was a much more welcome sight than the Great Fire. The large collection of weapons, all of them intimately familiar to him, never failed to make him smile, though he had to admit that the bare, desert-like plains were a bit boring to look at, as was the empty sky, bereft of clouds or stars.
Except… it was no longer empty.
It took him a moment to see it, engrossed as he was in the weapons that surrounded him, but this place had changed since the last time he'd inadvertently visited it.
For the better.
Small plants, barely more than tiny weeds really, were sprouting up between the many blades, adding some green to the endless red. They were miniscule and far apart, which was why he hadn't seen them until now, but they were definitely there.
Furthermore, a young Sakura tree, barely half Shirou's size, was now growing next to the lone hill, clearly possessing quite a bit of ambition to grow bigger, its pink and purple blossoms melting surprisingly well into the red background.
The sky was not empty anymore either, as hundreds of multi-coloured dots littered the heavens, just barely visible despite the light of dawn. A good look revealed that they were not stars, as he had half-expected, but gigantic gems instead, sparkling merrily as if freshly washed.
The connotations were not lost on him. It wasn't hard to understand what it meant for a Sakura tree and gems to be present here. Yes, it was about as subtle as a brick to the face.
His world, once empty and barren, was slowly gaining colour again, and all because of his girls.
He couldn't immediately see a symbol representing Ayako however, which was more than a bit puzzling. Soon, he found himself wandering his dream space, searching for a bow, or perhaps a video game console.
He climbed the lone hill, both to search it and for a better vantage point, and he huffed in laughter when he saw a light covering of snow near the top. Almost as if the hill had mountain-aspirations. In any other situation, he might have wondered about it, but since this was a dream, he took it in stride, trudging on through the crisp snow.
There was no snow at the very top of the hill however, as that spot was currently occupied by Mjolnir and by Avalon. The hammer and the sheath were overlooking the surrounding area as if they were its king and queen, yet the redhead also noticed there was a small space between them.
And in that small space, there was a single plant, tiny and easily overlooked had it not been for the fact that it was flanked by two of the world's most powerful artefacts, almost like they were guarding it.
It was a four-leaf clover.
A symbol of luck, and the weapon of Ayako's official martial arts club.
He was three for three then. His girls were all here, and despite the fact he still did not know where 'here' was supposed to be, or what this all meant, he was nevertheless happy that he wasn't alone anymore.
For now blissfully unaware of the truth of this world, Shirou sat down next to the four-leaf clover, looking around and seeing more details with every passing moment.
Unbeknownst to him though, he wasn't just seeing more details, but the world was actually getting more detailed by the moment. With every second he spent contemplating it and its secrets, he was granting more substance and definition to his surroundings. That was simply how this worked.
For now, the barren world remained but a concept inside of him, a promise of possibilities, but it was developing rapidly. It wouldn't be long now before its presence became notable, and then even someone as dense as Shirou would be able to figure out what exactly he carried within him.
He'd done much research into gods since Mjolnir had arrived after all, and this world was something that had previously been beholden nearly exclusively to the Divine. Something that was strongly associated with them, to the point where every Magus knew of the connection.
For the moment however, this world remained nameless, and all that Shirou knew about it was what he could see with his own eyes.
It was both a barren landscape, now finally gaining some colour, and a gigantic workshop, filled with unlimited blades.
"Welcome, mister Fujimaru. The Clocktower's First Classroom is honoured to receive a guest of your standing."
During his time at the Clocktower, Shirou had met his fair share of mysterious individuals of all shapes and sizes. People who declined to give their name, people who never mentioned their past, people who avoided any and all suggestions that they had relatives, and even people who categorically refused to show their true appearance.
None had been quite so mysterious however as the cloaked and hooded figure that now stood before him. A figure of whom not even the gender could be seen, let alone their age, complexion, or general features.
This was Millieune Carillon, one of the ruling lords of the Clocktower, said to have been in charge of the First Classroom for the past few centuries at least, though of course, with the ever-present cloak, no one could corroborate that. It might just as well be that the position was passed on every few decades, with no one any the wiser.
Whatever the truth though, there was no denying that Lord Carillon was a Magus of international renown and infamy. In part because of their great contributions to various fields of Magecraft, but mainly because of their authority to bestow Sealing Designations upon people of interest.
If there was a Magus out there with incredible qualities that had to be preserved and studied, lord Carillon was the one who would place upon them a Sealing Designation. No one else had that authority. Not any of the other Ruling Lords or even Lorelei herself.
Though if Lorelei or lady Montmorency were to order that someone was to be Sealed, lord Carillon wasn't going to refuse of course. Not without a very good reason.
"Thank you, lord Carillon. It's an honour to be here."
Shirou bowed slightly in greeting, showing the proper respect towards the lord before him. Not just because they were a Ruling Lord of the Clocktower, or because they were Lorelei's staunch ally, or even because they had the final say on whether Shirou should be Sealed or not, but also because they were the master of the Carillon-Observatory.
The Carillon-Observatory was the oldest part of the Clocktower as well as the Classroom that lay deepest below the surface. It was there that the Magus Association had been founded all those centuries ago, making it a crucial part of the history of the Moonlit World. Being its lord was an immensely important position, one that even Shirou respected.
More currently relevant however was the fact that the Carillon-Observatory was the only known place in the entire world from where the Tomb of Albion could be reliably entered, which just so happened to be Shirou's goal today.
There were other entrances to the Tomb, but they were hidden well or sealed quite thoroughly. If Shirou wanted to follow Arcueid's instructions and descend as soon as possible, he definitely needed to go through the Carillon-Observatory. It was his only option, so to speak.
Hence, buttering up its lord was a good first step to take.
Of course, under normal circumstances, he'd never be allowed entry no matter how much he flattered lord Carillon. The Observatory was the lord's Workshop, their Sancta Sanctorum, and entrance was only permitted to their subordinates and apprentices, certainly not to a mysterious Sorcerer.
Today however, Shirou had the dubious fortune that his help was sorely needed down there. Sufficiently so for lord Carillon to make a massive exception to the rules and open up their Workshop to him.
It certainly worked out well for the redhead, but it had to grate something fierce for lord Carillon. To be unable to defend their Workshop themselves and be forced to call upon a stranger was nothing short of total humiliation to a Magus, and in light of that, Shirou made doubly sure to act deferentially and respectfully at all times.
There was no point in rubbing salt into the wounds and making an enemy for life here.
"The honour is all mine, lord Fujimaru. I am most grateful that you answered our call for aid." Lord Carillon recognised Shirou's bow for what it was, an attempt at an apology for the difficult situation they'd found themselves in, and they returned it, as was proper. Sorcerers were equal in rank to lords after all, and it was in the best interest of them both to remain unfalteringly polite with each other. "And you, lord El-Melloi."
"Don't mention it." Waver, who'd also accompanied Shirou, spoke in a most pleasant tone, joining their piece of theatre. He didn't grunt or complain, as he normally would have, but kept his expression pleasant and relaxed. It was telling though that a relaxed expression seemed to tax him more than his normal scowl. "I merely hope we are not too late?"
"There is still some time. So far, we have been able to halt every offensive and force the Phantasmal Beasts into retreat." There was a note of pride in lord Carillon's voice as they said so, a note of pride that was well-earned. "We cannot continue doing so for much longer however. We are in need of a more permanent solution. A solution you might be able to provide, lord Fujimaru."
"I cannot promise anything until I see the scene for myself." Shirou told them firmly, unwilling to guarantee anything that he wasn't sure about himself. At the moment, they were standing near the entrance of the Carillon-Observatory, well outside, meaning he couldn't see anything inside yet, let alone the tunnels leading into the Tomb of Albion.
Or well, he could, if he applied himself and used his Clairvoyance, but that would be rude.
"…Yes, of course." There was only a very slight pause in lord Carillon's speech, slight enough that no one else would have heard it, but it was there all the same. "I will… escort you to the Observatory. By high exception, you have been given special permission and clearance to enter, so you need not fear any Bounded Fields or other defences on our way. I do request however that you do not touch anything, and that you avoid looking at our projects as well."
Knowing that Shirou had some kind of Mystic Eyes, lord Carillon was quick to request his discretion. Even in a situation like this, a Magus wanted to protect their secrets, a desire that Shirou was not inclined to dismiss.
With no reason to refuse and every reason to continue being affable and polite, he closed his eyes, wordlessly assuring the hooded lord that he was not planning to steal any secrets. For some reason, his eyes could see through walls and Magic easily enough, but not through his own eyelids, meaning he was rendering himself blind.
Fortunately, Waver took him by the arm, steering him into the right direction and making sure he didn't bump into anything as they started on their journey, descending a long flight of stairs into the Earth.
They had to make for quite the odd group like this. Millieune Carillon at the head, in all their hooded glory, followed by a few gruff-looking Enforcers, who were in turn followed by Shirou and Waver, with Grey closing the ranks at the back. Naturally, the girl had come along, loyally guarding her mentor from threats seen and unseen.
For a few minutes, they walked on in silence, the only sounds being their footsteps and their breathing. They descended staircase after staircase, going deeper and deeper into the Earth, and with every step down, Shirou could physically feel the concentration of Magical Energy in the air rising higher and higher. He'd heard before that Mystery continued to survive deep below the Earth, but it was strange to experience that for himself. The difference truly was immense.
Just when the levels of Magical Energy were getting so high that it was almost starting to become dangerous for ordinary humans however, they stopped.
"We are here. You can open your eyes again, lord Fujimaru."
Shirou needed no more prompting, indeed opening his eyes again, seeing before him his goal.
The tunnels leading down into the Tomb of Albion.
There were three of them, all dark as the night despite the great quantities of light present in the Observatory, clearly sloping downwards very quickly, nearly making for a straight drop into the seemingly bottomless abyss.
Magical Energy was leaking out of them in quantities that would make a man's head spin, and the redhead could clearly see multiple bodies lying just beyond all three entrances. Bodies of people who'd mistakenly thought themselves capable of withstanding the immense pressure of a concentration of Magical Energy that hadn't been seen on the surface since the disappearance of the last remaining gods.
This was a boundary between the World of Man and the World of Mystery, potentially a gateway into the Reverse Side of the World even, and Shirou's respect for lord Carillon grew with leaps and bounds for managing to survive down here for so long with most of their sanity remaining intact.
"This is where the Phantasmal Beasts keep coming from." Lord Carillon explained, gesturing at the tunnels. "So far, we have tried to seal them in a hundred different ways, up to and including by trying to collapse them, but we've had no luck. All methods, both Magical and mundane, have proven fruitless against such immense amounts of Magical Energy."
"I can see that." The tunnels still bore the scarring from those attempts that the hooded lord had mentioned, but no more than that, and Shirou took a moment to get a proper picture of the situation. Once that was done, he nodded in both determination and satisfaction. "I can collapse them for you."
As Arcueid had said, Albion's lingering Authority was mighty, but not so mighty as to be able to withstand the power of a nascent god, let alone a blow from Mjolnir.
"I am relieved to hear you say that." Lord Carillon didn't doubt Shirou for a moment. They merely let out a pleased sigh. "There's no guarantee that the Phantasmal Beasts won't find another way to the surface after you're done, but it will at least remove the simplest path. If they wish to attack us again, they're going to have to work for it."
"Before I will collapse them though, I need to enter one of the tunnels myself." Shirou had held off on telling anyone aside from Waver and Lorelei about this, and he could only hope lord Carillon wouldn't take his sudden request too badly. "There is something down there that I have been instructed to find."
"Instructed?" Displaying the immense self-control that Clocktower lords were renowned for, lord Carillon easily went with the flow, displaying no sign of shock that Shirou was going to potentially join the pile of bodies in the tunnels. "By whom?"
"…Arcueid Brunestud." The hooded lord had opened their Classroom to Shirou despite that being a massive taboo in the Moonlit World, and Shirou reckoned the least he could do in return was tell them the truth. "I am to find a weapon down there that will be instrumental in saving the world."
"That is quite the quest." It wasn't immediately clear whether lord Carillon believed him, probably because they themselves weren't sure if they did, but they didn't protest or otherwise argue against the plan. "Very well. If you believe yourself capable of descending into these tunnels, I will not stop you. I do hope though that the Moon Princess gave you more than a vague command, because I have no doubt that the Tomb is labyrinthic in nature. There are already three separate tunnels here, and I presume many more forks and intersections down below. Finding your way might prove to be a considerable challenge."
"Not to mention all the dangers on the way." One of the Enforcers spoke up unprompted, giving Shirou a look that suggested he both admired the redhead's bravery and pitied his naïve stupidity. "Every Phantasmal Beast we chased off will probably be lurking down there, not to mention the roaring creature."
"Roaring creature?" Shirou hadn't heard that term before, but it had to be significant, considering everyone seemed to flinch at its mere mention, up to and including Waver and Grey.
"A sort of presence that emits louds roars at regular intervals." Lord Carillon explained, a twitch of their gloves fingers showing their apprehension. "So far, it has not come to the surface yet, likely because the concentration of Magical Energy is still too low. Instead, it remains in wait, terrorising both us and the other Phantasmal Beasts, who fear it even more than we do."
"…Lovely." This was getting better and better, and Shirou decided he should depart now, before he lost his nerve.
He walked over to the tunnels, studied the great stone walls for a moment, and nodded when he determined their weak spot.
He balled his fist, aimed carefully, and struck.
With a great crashing sound, the stone broke under the force of his blow, and the tunnels, all three of them, creaked ominously.
"Lord Fujimaru?!"
"Shirou?!"
Both lords behind him let out alarmed shouts, but he turned around and held up a hand, to reassure them.
"Since there is a chance I won't return, I weakened the structural integrity of the tunnels." He explained, leaving out for now that he had used his own Authority to crush Albion's. "Should I not return, you can now collapse them yourselves. Ah, I would appreciate it though if you could wait for a few days with that. I'd prefer not to be trapped down there."
"That… It should…" The unflappable lord Carillon finally seemed to be off-balance for once, unable to formulate a reply after seeing something so ridiculous. An ancient rock formation, infused with Magical Energy and Authority from the Age of the Gods, sturdy enough to easily withstand countless attempts at collapsing it, now nearly undone by a single punch.
It was too crazy for words.
"Three days, right?" Waver was more than used to Shirou's antics however, quickly proposing a timetable. "Should you fail to return within that allotted time frame, we shall collapse the tunnels ourselves."
"…Yes, three days should be enough." Arcueid had said so, and although Shirou wasn't sure he completely trusted her on that, since she could be a bit of a ditz, he realised that he couldn't ask for more. Phantasmal Beasts were still rushing to the surface after all, and he couldn't ask the lords and Enforcers to put their lives at risk for him.
That wouldn't be heroic at all.
"Do you have any idea where to start?" Waver asked, glancing meaningfully at the three tunnels, that each led somewhere else. "Lord Carillon said this already, but chances are that it'll be a veritable maze down there."
"Yes, I know where to start." Shirou had to follow his nose, trace the scent of fresh air, and although he'd been a little worried that the scent would be so faint as to almost be unnoticeable, those worries had now been laid to rest.
The middle tunnel was the one he had to enter. That was the one smelling like fresh air.
Actually, that was an understatement. Calling it fresh air might suggest it smelled like the forest next to Fuyuki, or perhaps the Swiss Alps, but it was so much more than that.
The scent was positively crisp. Utterly without blemish or flaw. Overpowering yet gentle, it smelled like a meadow in a primeval forest, where not a single human had ever set foot. It was sublime, purifying, perfect even.
And above all, it was hauntingly familiar, though he could not yet place it.
Letting out a deep breath, the redhead steeled himself, waved goodbye to the people who'd accompanied him this far, and then stepped into the tunnel, unaffected by the lethal concentrations of Magical Energy even when he arrived at the bodies.
Which he then promptly threw out of the tunnel, back to the Observatory. They were dead, there was nothing he could do about that, but they did deserve a proper burial. Not to be displayed here forever.
Then he moved on. He was a man on a mission, heading towards his destination as he followed the scent.
The Tomb of Albion awaited.