Lord Animusphere raised an eyebrow. "You're familiar with the killing method of one of the Association's most feared 'hired help'?"
"Only because I faced him in the past. That being said, he'd already kicked the bucket as far as I'm concerned. Meaning whoever did this is mimicking the infamous assassin's handiwork." Tracing the lines filled into the autopsy report by the morgue's staff, he tapped one particular line with great interest. "Shot repeatedly but no visible exit wound for the bullet. If this was done by the professional himself, there'd only be one shell's worth of fragments inside him. Instead, numerous fragments amounting to almost as many as you'd suspect to be used in an execution firing range were found inside his body. All of them contain faint traces of magecraft. As for his Magic Crest, nothing usable remains."
"Which rules out any and all of our like-minded fellows in the tower." The lord concluded with a sigh. "I see where you're coming from. Even Enforcers would attempt to salvage something of his. But if the killer were to destroy them outright, that would leave the Church who abhors all manner of our practices."
"Except the Church wouldn't be so sloppy about their smoking him out."
Marisbury waited for him to pull out a map with several marked locations. Each of them, about a city-size to a small county that was initially encircled, also had crossed-out specks within every red circle. "This is?"
"A map of where Adashino Kurou was found or sighted in recent months. As well as a burned down location that had been reported around the same time he fled the area. Publicly reported, might I add. My guess is that, after being seen, his safehouses or bases were destroyed, forcing him to flee the area one after the other."
"Regular mercenaries would rarely play with their prey." Waver watched as the realization seemed to settle in on his colleague's face. "And the Church would prefer this remain out of the public eye. Meaning that…"
"Meaning that whoever he pissed off and had been hunting his tail isn't the type to simply silence him. Whoever they were, they were playing a dangerous game of cat-and-mouse. Except the dear Doctor didn't seem like he understood the notion of 'being toyed with', hence the direct attempt at taking him out when all his hiding holes were set ablaze."
"..." The man stayed quiet. The implications of what kind of hornets' nest Heartless kicked to get stung so badly might've instilled some sense of fear in the older gentleman. But Waver wasn't one to beat around the bush.
"Why were you trying to learn about the Fourth Grail War, Lord Animusphere?" Waver narrowed his eyes. Crossing his arms, he simultaneously hid and slowly massaged his hand that once held his Command Seals. "For what reason would a high-ranking lord like yourself hire a wanted criminal to investigate an inconclusive ritual of the Far East?"
That the man didn't make a move to deny it was pretty telling. That the man smiled wide as he met Waver's sharp gaze was as much an admission of guilt as anything. "I'm amazed. In a matter of a few hours, and with so few hints, you managed to deduce all this information on your own. Well done, Lord El-Melloi II." Marisbury sounded genuinely impressed. "Might I ask, however, did you come to find so much in so little time?"
He didn't relent in his sources. Despite how suspicious she was, he didn't dare expose just how much he was aware of. "I had some help. A wandering little bird, so to speak."
"Ah, yes. Your young and timid student, yes?" The man chuckled, seemingly amused. "Curious. What many would assume to be a demure young lady is quite the talent, isn't she? I see, I see."
Waver didn't say anything. He didn't confirm the man's guess of it was Gray. But he didn't dare speak of the others who revealed much to him. More so when one of his worst fears could likely be running amok out there right now.
Memories of that dreadful night, of ash and brimstone, of gunshots and hellfire, were very much fresh in his mind.
While he didn't falter in the face of many monstrosities after all these years, there were just some things one's trauma wouldn't leave alone. No matter what he faced in his day-to-day life, that psycho woman's vicious smile would haunt him forever. Especially after she claimed the life of his closest ever friend.
He shuddered. But thankfully, Marisbury was too busy studying the autopsy report to notice. "Returning to the main topic. I know what you were searching for, and I am afraid I know the reason. Lord Marisbury Animusphere, am I correct in assuming you wish to participate in the next Holy Grail War?"
"Yes."
"I strongly advise against it."
"I don't see what's so wrong about taking a crack at something you've lived through." Marisbury didn't bother hiding his surprise or his smile. The truth was already out, and since, as far as the lord was concerned, there was nothing wrong or against the rules with admitting to his end goal. "If you're concerned about my health, rest assured I am perfectly capable myself. Compared to you, at least. And if not me, I could have my daughter take my place instead. You've met my little Olga, I presume?"
"I have." The professor reluctantly acknowledged with a huff. "A talented girl, she is. If only a little overconfident in her own capabilities, she'd be the perfect student. Nothing, some hard reality won't fix sooner or later. However, we aren't here to discuss your child."
"You hold her in high regard yet you think she is incapable of participating?"
"That is not the point! I'd rather not have parent-teacher conferences for the dead, more so knowing you'd throw her in that inane ritual that would ultimately result in the ruin of your bloodline, victory or otherwise!" Marisbury Animusphere looked to give his words consideration, but appearances belied his indifference to the warnings. Waver couldn't help but sigh at the atypical stubbornness of traditionalist magi. "If you're serious about participating in the next Grail War, I would sorely beg you to reconsider. I speak not out of ill intent or some selfish desire to covet that accursed thing. This is merely advice from the 'lucky survivor' that managed to escape the hell it caused. I will say this now. That thing isn't worth it!"
"Not even taking into account the prestige it awarded you for surviving, young Waver Velvet?" The way the man used his full name, reeked of mockery. "A regular student with little prospect of amounting more than a lab rat or even a janitor for other talented magi managed to catapult himself to the bottommost seat of our ruling body. To take the title of a Clock Tower Lord, much more, succeed his teacher, one who also participated in the same ritual but failed to even outlive his 'worthless pupil'… It really begs the question: Why do you not see it as a blessing when you came out better than most others, failure to win notwithstanding?"
For one, Lord El Melloi II was glad his patience had grown over the years. Had he been the brat he was years back, he'd have snarled and hurled insults at the man who just didn't understand the hell he went through. But then again, it was the fact that they didn't know what they were dealing with that he himself was appreciating just how lucky he was. To have won that fight without being physically crippled. To have lived on without becoming morally bankrupt… To have had a friend that could protect him from all those horrors.
He'd rather deal with the monsters he could understand than the monstrosities that were birthed from the selfish desire to attain an omnipotent wish.
"Lord Animusphere, allow me to be frank if you would."
"Go on." The man barely spared him a glance, far too interested in the corpse that remained quiet.
"The Holy Grail War isn't a place to show off your abilities, nor is it an event to garner respect and fame for your clan. The late Lord Kayneth assumed just that and hence why he failed. The ritual is a merciless battlefield where lowering your head to live as long as you can already count as a victory. The prize I attained in doing so was getting out of Fuyuki alive. No more, no less. As for what I attained after, my dealings with the Archibalds are on my own merit. Not based on my survival skills nor is it due to having 'bested' their former heir. Forgive me for saying that, but I'd call you a fool for thinking I won my position in the lottery of life."
"Hahahah, I'd say you'd have been the bigger fool for believing my presumptions!" the man laughed. "I'm glad you aren't as gullible as the rest of the staff in your Faculty."
"If your intention was to test me, I'd prefer if you didn't block out my warnings as well. In any case, if you so desire the Grail and the wish it grants, I have no power or intentions to stop you beyond using words. However, I request that you do not send Olga to die for your dream. Forgetting about the lack of common sense in sending your own child to war, she is not ready. No matter what talents she may possess, she cannot beat even the weakest of monsters that will join that battlefield. At best, she returns to a reformed shell awakened by her powerlessness. At worst… well." He sighed and spared the good dead Doctor a narrowed gaze. "There are worse fates than passing on to the next world. By all accounts, she may as well be sent to hell for your sins. Literally."
"Surely, you jest?" the man spied him from the corner of his eye.
"Would I bother telling lies when I'm certain it won't convince you anyway?" Waver scoffed and stared back fully.
"For all I know, it could be your last gambit to plead with me." The professor shrugged and turned to face him. "Perhaps if I did change my mind and pull Olga out of the running, it's one less talented opponent for you in the long run?"
"If I wanted to put my life on the line for that damned wish-granting device, I'd have sabotaged you and yours before you even leave for Japan." Waver crossed his arms. His tall stature towered over the man, but the fire in his eyes didn't burn out of arrogance. Only determination. "Of course, that's only if you think I'd let you leave this room after finding out what you know."
Marisbury and Waver stared at each other. For a full minute, silence reigned. The dead didn't stir, and neither did either lord admit their defeat. Pride was the sin every magi shared no matter how much they tried to deny it. However, Waver was ready to challenge a powerful lord but not due to some bullshit as magi honor and pride.
It was simply because the life of his student might be on the line.
The silence persisted until Marisbury chose to break the stalemate. But contrary to attacking, he simply turned away and relented with a sigh. The white-haired lord never looked so out of it before in his life.
"I understand where you're coming from, Lord El Melloi. Truly, I do. Your reputation for caring for your own students is something that very much precedes you. I understand the dangers of my desires. And as much as I wish not to involve my dear Olga, she'd most definitely force herself in regardless of my opinions of her capabilities. I'd vow to leave her out of this, but you never know what the future may bring."
"You are at the end of your rope, aren't you." It wasn't a question. Only a statement of fact that the elder of the two shrugged on.
"The last few years were rather stressful for me. The death of Heartless is a shame. Beyond being my employee, he was rather pleasant to work with. But alas, I will have to work with what he already managed to find. Peace be to him in the next world."
"I will not scold you on sparing sympathy for the dead, but it is against the rules to harbor the belongings and research of magi considered as criminals. Should you keep his reports on whatever he found, not just you, even I would be in trouble for keeping silent on the matter."
"Then it is a good thing that I have no such reports. This is all I have and will ever need." Marisbury tapped the side of his cranium with a teasing smirk. "And besides, it is a good thing that no one would speak about our exchange, yes? Even as lords, all we've discussed today is the silence of the deceased and the dead end to his case. Perhaps his breaking into your office was a last-ditch effort to hide from his pursuers, a minor attachment to his former role as the head of your department. But considering the fatal injuries he'd already sustained beforehand, there is little evidence to suspect you had a hand in his predicament, much less evidence or involvement in his case. Henceforth, on the official record, Doctor Heartless, indifferent and quiet to the very end, managed to evoke a small sense of sentimentality and wandered about until he arrived and took refuge, drifting off to eternal slumber at the desk of the one place he called home."
Waver let out a short snort and shook his head. "You make for a bad playwright, Lord Marisbury."
"And yet, the Inner politics will never be touched on. I despise them as much as you do, but when life gives you a bad hand, it'd be best to play it in the worst way possible, no?"
"To mislead everyone else into thinking Heartless wasn't heartless, to begin with, I see." Waver chuckled but only cynically. If he disputed the claim of his superior lord, it would bring many questions. With his small power base, there was little standing in the way of those above them from prying further. But together… "Hmph. Very well, I will stay silent on this matter." He glanced at the deceased that never once stirred during their discussion. "Perhaps Doctor Heartless wanted to reminisce in his final moments. And, despite our differences in rank, I decided to request an audience with the Clock Tower Lord who dislikes me the least for some guidance on handling the matter of a dead man in my office."
"Good. Exceptionally good. Seems Olga was right when she said her least boring professor was a very sharp person. Quick to lower his head yet quite the standoffish man with the weirdest sense of pride. Sometimes, I wonder if your odd sensibilities are what she finds most interest in." Marisbury turned around and walked out of the room. "Have a good day, Lord El-Melloi II. Rest assured, Heartless' passing is of no immediate concern. We are magi. We walk a thin line between life and death. Hence, it would be best if you come to understand just how frequently we lords must test our balance. For our positions garner the most responsibilities in maintaining it."
As the older lord vanished out the door, Waver was left entirely alone. Quiet and peace returned to the room that was once filled with tension so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Instead of taking one out, he took a stick of cigarette and lit it without a care in the world. He needed the calming effects, especially after that heated discussion. So he puffed and relaxed on his lonesome.
Heartless wouldn't care, dead as he was. And Waver didn't think any other deceased had anything to say, much less the absent staff. Halfway through his medicinal therapeutic treatment, someone else reprimanded him in the missing nurse's place.
"The sign clearly says no smoking inside the building."
He huffed, the taste of the smoke going bad now that he wasn't alone. "What do you care about some stupid signs?"
"Ara, ara… Is my new Master so tuckered out from a little chat? Please, calm down before you start having a coughing fit!"
"And wouldn't you enjoy that more?"
The female voice laughed. "I was only speaking my concern! The last thing I want is for him to become even more pathetic because his lungs aren't working properly anymore."
Arrogant, pushy, brash, and judging. For someone who carried a similar boisterous attitude as Iskandar, the woman was very keen to force Waver into following the rules. Not because she held them in such high regard, no. It was mostly to garner his frustration.
"Lung cancer will be among the better alternatives to dying in my mind. With my line of work, it was already a pain. Throw your existence in and I think I may just consider ending my life. Finding a calm death would be almost impossible now."
Waver puffed smoking her away. Despite being hidden in spiritual form, he cared little if she was even bothered by smoke. Only, she understood his distaste for her that even if he resorted to it in the first place, she didn't give anything away.
"Pfft, I'd be flattered if that's all it took to get you to croak. However, be glad I need you alive and don't find your company that terrible… yet. As for dying—" She paused before the air shifted around the place Waver kept exhaling his smoke towards. Like a mist taking form, she materialized from thin air, tobacco smoke barely able to hide the dangerous air her glowing heterochromatic eyes conveyed. The woman of exotic appearance stood before Waver, one hand on her hip and the other waving his exhalations away with both amusement and aversion. "—since I'm now your Servant, I'd prefer it if my Master would at least try to keep himself alive for longer, at least, until I achieve my objectives."
"Keep your opinions to yourself. No matter how much I would have liked to avoid participating in this shit again, I'm still honor-bound to carry it out." Waver muttered as he took away his glove and stared at the hand which had his old Command Seals that bound him to his King, to Iskander.
That same hand was now home to three new Command Seals. They formed a different shape but were brimming with power equal to the past ones regardless.
Once more, he stood there as a new Master for the coming war.
'Ah… damn. How did I manage to get into this mess again?'