FBBH 60 (Patreon)

One more month, one more chapter. Thanks again for your support everyone, this is the first of the last few chapters of the Vault of Prosperity Saga then we will have a small adventure with someone in Fuyuki, you can try and guess who, and we will move on back to the Youth Gathering Saga with some surprises on the way.

Fate/Bonds Beyond Humanity

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60- The Illusion of Control

…..

Inside her private office, behind a sound proof glass and surrounded by boundary fields for privacy, Lakmia took a sip of her wine with a bored expression.

The tournament of the day was one of the bigger ones, certainly with the biggest prize pool over the last few years which worked to attract many of the current fighters in the roster with one or two of the retired ones.

It also helped the betting pools, having more fighters always divided the attention of anyone uninformed enough to know who was a safe bet or not. That gave the house, her, a bigger chance of winning without the need to bother into fixing the matches. A promising profit was the reason why the pot was big in the first place.

Mostly it came thanks to the audience, that audience that came to this particular tournament in bulk as word of mouth had many curious thanks to what had happened the prior week.

A rookie came and won the whole thing as a Wizard type after defeating potential champions and carrier fighters with established fame. A young woman who was reaching adulthood and apparently decided that her first steps on it wouldn’t be partying until she dropped, or so the narrative Lakmia propagated went.

No, Akeno came without a name, without titles, from the unknown as far as anyone not in the Gremory was concerned and won against the strongest unaffiliated devils Runeas had to offer after brutal fights that pushed her limits.

That got people talking, from the lowest rat in Runeas to the richest devil who was looking for someone to add their peerage and be able to compete in the real big leagues; Rating Games.

A Wizard type could bring a lot of firepower to any team and someone like that emerging from the streets of the capital was rare, especially with the talent Akeno showed.

Except she wasn’t from Runeas, or the Underworld for that matter, and anyone who knew Rias knew her Queen as well. At any social event the newly christened Crimson-Haired Ruin Princess had been since childhood Akeno had been there at her hip, always smiling politely. Obviously she already belonged to a peerage and Rias was a Gremory and they didn’t trade.

So not all nobles had shown up after her but they still did just in the hopes of seeing the young Queen’s mettle and power, a power that was able to crush Gertrude who pumped herself with enough demonic energy to mutate herself before her body failed.

She was there in the arena right now, fighting against another uninteresting fighter in Lakmia’s opinion and already losing. Without the excess of demonic energy Gertrude didn’t belong in the big leagues but was still trying to win. In either case the noble woman took another sip of her wine and focused on the audience.

The ‘house’ was full that day, pretty much everyone showed up to try and catch a glimpse of the new sensation that Akeno became after winning as a rookie and Wizard type. Some girls even had similar hairstyles while a group of men showed up with a banner for her. They and many were enjoying the current fights but that just stalled their disappointment.

Akeno wasn’t coming and the subordinate Lakmia designed for her and the Mage of Swords already told the Matron they never made plans for a return.

From what their conversations indicated that stint was a one time thing and Akeno had no interest in pursuing a career in the Underground Arena, no matter how short. She also wasn’t like Sairaorg who had something to prove and used the place to train. In fact the man also had no reason to return, the fighters in the arena weren’t a challenge anymore.

That was just how things went, everyone who could truly become someone was recruited by one person or another. Lakmia was actually responsible for taking away many of the talents of the Arena and putting her under her direct employ. She was the designated caretaker of Runeas after all, the Underground Arena was just one of many business ventures.

Business ventures that took a hit a few weeks ago. “Problems, problems, problems. All I have is problems.”

“Matron, do you require anything?” Her personal butler called, making sure he didn’t misheard her.

Lakmia huffed discreetly. “Just thinking about the idiot I had to bail out last week.” Holding the glass up, the man refilled it. “It is so hard getting good help these days. Can’t even die without making threats.” Her newest Piece, because she had no choice but to recruit him because he knew too much, gave her a lot of headaches when he threatened to expose some of her secrets before going down. “So much for loyalty. At least he can’t go against me anymore even if he isn’t my type…” A sigh escaped her lips as all the men in the room watched her, most barely moving. “Wasting a good Piece on him was the last thing I wanted to do.”

She always wanted to save her Evil Pieces for an elite task force, men with abilities beyond normal that would answer to her back and call while also being the sort of men who would share her bed every night.

Men she wouldn’t grow bored with.

And she had to use a Piece on someone she not only considered an annoyance but also repugnant. “Not like he is ugly. At least there is that.” Lakmia mused before frowning. “Then again, because of his reckless habits I took too many losses.”

“Milady, say the word and we can make that lowlife disappear.” Another from her peerage, someone she really recruited and liked, said from the corner.

Like his coworkers he was in a pristine suit but unlike everybody else he had a tie pin that marked him not only as the security chief but 2nd in command of the Arena. His existence was technically a secret since Lakmia didn’t divulge how many Pieces she had in her peerage. In truth she didn’t divulge she had a peerage at all, hiding them amongst the many employees she had.

Not even her subordinates knew, even if some suspected, that a few of them had been recruited as Pieces and the tallest man in the room was one of her main fighters as well as a former champion of the Arena.

Blond hair, blue eyes, and a charming smile, he was exactly the right type who could have maidens swoon. His face was shaved, just as Lakmia liked, and his hair was pulled back with just a strand above his forehead as the Matron demanded he had. Also he had muscles, lots of muscles that were exactly Lakmia’s type.

Tall, taller than Gertrude by a full whole head, he had more muscles than the redhead amazon by far, his body shape outcompeting any bodybuilder. However, unlike her, his huge muscles were born from centuries of fighters dating back to the Underworld Civil War where he was just a soldier.

After the war the man still wished to fight but Rating Games weren’t a thing just yet. Knowing that the rich were always after entertainment so the Capital of Gremory sounded a perfect place to find what he was looking for he moved to Runeas. Took him a few years to establish himself and gain fame but soon Lakmia took note of his prowess.

The noble woman also was looking for someone to test her new Evil Pieces at that moment so the former soldier settled down and became the first man bound to her forever, loving her even as she didn’t love him.

For all she wanted as his body and power, the Evil Piece secured his loyalty. “Karth, as much as I wished you could crush his head like a fruit, that ‘lowlife’ knows too much.” Lakmia lamented with a shrug. “Contacts, people of interest, clients, fake clients that the police send in, informants. He is more useful alive than dead.”

Karth nodded and lowered his head in submission. “I am sorry, milady.”

“Not your fault. You are just looking for the best ways to serve me.” Boredom took over as her rage was abated. Her new Piece was already working marvelously to rebuild what he had lost so she could forgive him enough to make sure he was welcomed. “His life will be the reward for his good work.”

Besides she made sure to adjust some of his behavior and even if he wasn’t an outright pleasant fellow to be around at least she got rid of his most annoying habits.

Soon her thoughts were back to the stands where Lakmia could already see people leaving the area. It was a side effect of the ascension of Rating Games, while the fights on the Underground were more brutal, they weren’t necessarily more interesting. The show went on but compared to how versatile and dynamic a Rating Game could be it was plain boring.

Lakmia can’t blame her audience for leaving, one on one matches were also common in Rating Games but the same spells that made the fights there safer also could make it more interesting.

Add to the fight that many of the great names of the arenas, not only her own, were recruited in peerages and allowed to partake in them making Rating Games obviously more fun to watch in the long run.

Sure she could apply some tricks to boost her revenue once in a while; not telling anyone Akeno was Rias’ Queen and implying she could return was an example, raising the prize was another.

But in the end nobody really powerful stayed in the arenas for long, it just wasn’t worth it and not only because of the risks. In fact the great prize being offered in the tournament at that point was the equivalent of a few months of wages on Earth in a developing country. The peerages working for the lesser nobles, the poorest ones, made that per month.

Those that competed in Rating Games double that even in the lowest ranks.

As someone who fought wars, Lakimia also knew that the Akeno that left the arena would have dominated easily if she was the one that first came in. ‘That girl evolved too fast, former human or not.’ She thought to herself after the fact. ‘While no longer a pure Wizard type but a Power type, she still fights plenty like a Wizard.’

Lakmia’s estimation was precise, had the Akeno who left the arena fought from the very beginning with her full power then she wouldn't have had any problems in any fight. Because she knew the truth; that while the arena itself was favorable to their fighters, a truly powerful Wizard type could easily decimate everyone there.

It wasn’t that the arena didn’t produce competent warriors, it was just that, once again, they were collected and joined peerages the moment they proved their power. Hundreds of warriors had already left the Underground for greener pastures and it was rare for them to return because of responsibilities or because it wasn’t worth it.

Sairaorg was a perfect example once again; he loved the arena and was forever grateful for it but after ascending to Heir he couldn’t return as a fighter for the sake of his reputation and even if he did there would be no one to challenge him.

Even the devil from a top tier peerage that popped up there from time to time wasn’t really strong, his team was in the hundreds in rank and that wasn’t just because of him. That peerage was well coordinated and his King was competent enough to know how to use his Pieces to secure some victories.

Watching the same struggle between familiar faces again and again was the reason why Lakmia was mostly bored. “Pity Akeno didn’t stay, we need some new blood…” She said out loud as some of her employees chuckled. The former warriors understood their lady’s grievance well. “Then again, she probably would dominate the competition. Don’t you think so, Karth?”

Considering both of them fought in wars, his thoughts were very similar. “As she is now? Without a doubt.”

Finishing her wine glass again, Lakmia nodded in agreement. “In her first fight she showed how terribly powerful Wizard types can be. On the second she only had troubles when caught off guard.”

He proved his thoughts mirrored hers by saying, “The third fight was the most interesting but obviously Frederick would have lost if she had more space or used her full potential. By the last fight she found her footing in one on one fights and used Thunder to break Gertrude’s defenses.” They watched as the giant woman fell and didn’t get up again, her opponent raising his fist in victory. “Not what she needed if Gertrude fought conventionally. Without that form, that chain would have been enough.”

“That is why we can’t call Gertrude an idiot even if she is weak. Pity she isn’t a man, her attitude is just the right one.” Lakmia joked a little as the runner up of the previous tournament was escorted out. At that point it was visible the Arena wasn’t full anymore. “Tsk. Well, there is nothing I can do about it.” She relaxed in her chair unconcerned. “If Arenas weren’t necessary to keep the masses happy I would have already closed this place.”

The former participants looked at each other with concern and nostalgia. It was in the arena they made their names and some managed to improve their lives before being trapped in Lakmia’s web. Those that could did hate her but not Runeas Underground Arena, not the place where a poor devil could make a living and show their mettle.

However they couldn’t disagree that the attendance numbers were plummeting over the last few years. It was only natural that the more popular the legal, safer and admittedly sometimes indeed more brutal Rating Games became, the worse would be for all Underground Arenas.

They all knew for a fact that only the Pillars’ capitals even had them anymore and some of them were already being shut and smaller illegal tournaments were emerging. The population needed somewhere to show their power, that was just how devils did things and even the Reincarnated ones dreamed of being Kings one day.

For Lakmia that wasn’t a pressing issue since she had other avenues of profit that her Clan didn’t know about nor cared.

Gremory was a loving Clan that trusted each other and Lakmia was entrusted with Runeas since the end of the civil war and nobody looked on it since. Until Zeoticus became the Head there was no need as the woman did a good job managing the more illegal side while also proving her loyalty again and again.

In fact her already departed brother had once said “A normal Gremory could fall in love with one person but my sister fell in love with the Gremory Clan.” Years after his death Lakmia couldn’t agree with him more.

Unlike the rest of her family, unlike all the others including their ancestor, Lakima fell in love with the idea of ‘Gremory Clan’ like one would with a real person. She wanted to see it grow and expand for as long as she breathed, always more powerful and grandiose. All her decisions were for the Clan and nobody else.

For it she would do anything, including dealing with mind numbing boredom that was watching the same fights again and again and again. “Hells and blazes we really need some new blood.” Lakmia sighed for that wasn’t to be. “Shutting down the Arena could cause resentment and our citizens will lose an incentive to grow stronger. If it wasn’t for that I would be anywhere else.”

Once again the former combatants of the arena looked at each other. Karth was the only one brave enough to speak and his words didn’t give them any reprieve. “You should do as you wish, milady.” Some winced at the line.

Lakmia stared at her Piece with a frown before looking back down. “I shall do what my Clan needs me to do.” The rest let out sighs of relief for the hopeful young devils still to come.

But it was obvious the Arena system was falling apart and wouldn’t last long.

Something needed to be done, a revamp was necessary but those who knew about the decay of the actual system didn’t care while others had no idea that the next generation of devils who weren’t born nobles would have even less opportunities from moving up in life.

The Matron was obviously the former, just holding on the old tradition for the sake of the Clan and nothing else. If anything her thoughts were in her side business and allies.

Those thoughts were cut off by one of her subordinates entering with an old fashioned phone, which looked more appropriate for an old period drama than modern day even for devil standards, resting on a tray and ringing loudly.

Lakmia didn’t like phones or any sort of thing that didn’t use magic and only had one for convenience's sake, leaving it in her secretary’s office so she didn’t have to look at it unless it was necessary.

Most people didn’t call either, preferring to communicate with her through magic circles like any true devil should in her opinion but the woman did grew excited at the prospect of who was calling and the news she was about to receive.

When the phone was placed on her desk, still ringing too loudly for her tastes, Lakmia picked it up with a smile regardless. “Hello Mage of Swords?” The woman heard a fellow devil speaking which quickly shot down her good mood a little. “Yes, it is lady Lakmia Gremory speaking. Who are you?” Her expression changed from bored to interested in the flip of a dime. “Oh, an apprentice of the Mage of Swords! My apologies, I didn’t know I was talking with someone so important.”

All other devils knew that voice, that tone of a girl who was talking about her favorite thing, a new toy she wanted to buy or an idol whose songs she was fully enthralled by.

Also the tone Lakmia had when she really wanted someone.

“So is my sword ready?” Her smile grew wider at the news and she stood from her seat and began to pace around excitedly. “That is great news. Excellent news even.” Karth moved the wire so his King could go around freely. “And the Mage of Swords? Can he come see my collection?”

Suddenly her face was ascent of joy and her lips settled on a line that showed neither anger or sadness. Still it was an expression of displeasure the men in the room knew well.

The Matron remained calm, refusing to lose her cool. “That won’t do. I made him a promise and he agreed to look at my collection. In fact, while I am pleased my sword took just a few days to be completed, I must insist he deliver it to me in person if just to keep our promise.”

The line grew quiet but by a few whispers here and there told the woman that the Mage of Swords wasn’t present and delegated the task to call her to his appendices. As a busy man working for the Gremory, Lakmia was fine with the action and even approved of his efficiency.

It was also an opportunity. “I know master Emiya is a busy man.” She started with a tone of respect so sweet that it could give someone diabetes. The devil on the other side, younger and still naive, ate it up gladly and tried to deliver excuses only for Lakmia to cut him. “No, no. It isn’t your fault. We all have things to do and time is money. Tell me something, has the Mage of Swords taken some time to rest between projects.”

*N-no, milady.* The voice was so nervous that Lakmia knew for sure the devil had to be on the younger side.

Just what she needed. ‘Less than a century, respectful but intimidated by authority. Love working on those.’ She licked her lips and attacked. “Then it isn’t a problem for him to schedule a meeting with me, let's say tomorrow? It would certainly be optimal. He delivers the sword and looks at my collection and we can have dinner. It will give him plenty of time to rest.” Then Lakmia made sure to change her tone to a more pitiful tune. “You are going to inform him, right? It is to keep a promise after all.”

From everything she gathered about Shirou from her informants, that would be enough to get a meeting even if he only wanted to get rid of her. Manipulating one of his younger appendices like that surely will earn his enmity but not before said meeting to keep a vague promise he couldn’t disagree was implied in their last encounter.

It would work only once but that was fine for her, Lakmia didn’t need more than one visit to implement her plan.

The apprentice, much like Lakmia already deduced, was a member of the Gremory. He knew about the Matron, her reputation and love for her Clan. Also knew she was well respected and didn’t know that Shirou wasn’t interested in her collection and just didn’t shoot her down in her face to be polite.

Just to not deal with Lakmia, Shirou had his apprentices making the call even if, once again to be polite, he hadn’t been direct about it. In fact the apprentice in question could agree with the statements that the Mage of Swords was extremely busy and a break would be most welcomed.

So, with the best of intentions and a smile on his face, the young devil spoke again. *Of course, Matron. I will inform my Master of his development tomorrow. Can we actually schedule-*

“Then I shall wait for him tomorrow at my villa by ‘midnight’. That would be perfect.” She wasn’t going to give Shirou time to ponder the warning and say ‘no’. If Lakmia wanted him, she needed to get him either confused or at least unbalanced. “I can’t wait for tomorrow~” If that meant throwing a young devil under the bus, she was going to do it.

*But Matron-* Her call ended with a gentle click, Lakmia’s smile wide as she predicted what the young devil would do.

“He will probably just mention things at the last minute and Emiya Shirou, the kind Mage of Swords with a heart too big for his own good, will do it for the sake of his word and subordinates. Still he is a Mage so I can’t underestimate him.” All her devils knew that face which lacked all mercy but there was something extra there, a resolve they rarely saw in the Matron. “After he is brought into the fold, if necessary of course, that kindness will be gone for everyone and everything except the Gremory Clan…”

“Matron… Are you sure that course of action is a good idea?” One of her employees looked around nervously. His stone faced coworkers refused to meet his gaze even if they shared his doubts. “He is already the Magician of Gremory and-”

“Oh, poor Pflie.” Her tone was as sweet as when she spoke on the phone but that only made the devil freeze. “It is because he is just a magician that he can’t truly work for the Gremory. And with his potential… Hmm~ No, that won’t do.”

Pflie swallowed the bile forming on his throat as the Matron's attention wasn’t something he wanted. “But lady Rias- lady Rias cares for him and-”

An amused giggle cut him off. “She is family and she will understand-”

“There are rumors, Matron!” The other men in the room looked even more nervous at the shout. All except Karth who glared at Pflie. “You must have heard them. Rumors that lady Rias not just favors the Mage of Swords but loves him. Rumors that-”

Lakmia’s giggle turned to a full blown laugh that calmed Karth. “Pflie, foolish and young Pflie. It was just yesterday when you were running around the arena trying to become someone. And now… now you think you are important enough to talk back to me.” Her laugh calmed down as she lit up her pipe.

Quickly the man prostrated himself on the ground, head as low as possible. “Forgive me Matron but the rumors-”

“Are just rumors. Very funny rumors.” Her smile was gentle but the man knew his life was by a thread. “Very humorous, a Heiress falling in love with a human. Almost like a fairy tail.” She chuckled before moving faster than any of her security guards could react, slamming Pflie’s head on the wall with her hand in his mouth. While the man’s head was stuck he wasn’t really hurt and her smile remained sweet and kind. “But rumors nonetheless. Spun just because she kicked Riser to the curb and people needed a reason for it. That brat wasn’t even worthy of being a consort and Rias was right in showing him his place.” She rubbed the back of his head in the wall and Pflie fought to not react else things would grow worse. “Same like you aren’t worthy to interrupt me.  If the Mage of Swords doesn’t fall in line he will be mine and Rias will be happy to have her toy for all eternity. I might even give him to her after I have some fun.”

Pflie stopped struggling after a while, the back of his head bruised despite his resistance and about to pass out from the lack of air. Then the Matron let him go and he gulped as much air as possible with tears of relief in his eyes. Nobody else moved or reacted and he suddenly froze as the Matron’s hands touched his arm.

It was a big arm, not the biggest in the room but by her careful touch it was just the type Lakmia liked.

“You are lucky you are cute.” Lakmia Gremory then stood up and calmly returned to her seat. Karth pulled the chair for her, the only one not bothered by the events. “Call everyone tomorrow boys. Our guest is a Mage and we don’t know what kind of tricks he has on his sleeve.”

She didn’t tame Runeas’ criminal elements by playing softly or not having one or ten back up plans just in case.

…..

Two warriors, a brunette woman dressed in a blue qipao with her thighs exposed and a man with blond hair dressed in a green tank top and cargo pants, clashed against each other deep in the Vault of Prosperity.

With a dash the woman approached the man before delivering a spin kick which was blocked even as he took some damage. His counter attack would have to wait as the woman followed her kick with another and another. The blond soldier duck and block low but still took damage.

From his lower position the man threw a kick of his own, his feet connecting with her leg and forcing the woman to slide back from the impact. Despite that she was still in range and the blond man managed to deliver two fast kicks before she was too far. Getting up once his range wasn’t enough, the blond man unleashed a spinning boomerang of energy from his arms.

Suddenly the area grew slightly darker as the woman moved her hands for focus and her leg rose high as powerful energies began to flow around her body. A loud sound echoed and she began to move so fast that after-images were left behind in her wake. It was like she had multiple right legs.

And every single one of them connected with the blond man as his energy broke apart when it connected with the woman’s body. It was worthless, as was his struggle to try and parry the rain of attacks.

Unfortunately in that game when you are hit by one you have to take them all. “FATHERDAMNED!!!!!!” Azazel couldn't help but shout as half of the room celebrated with high fives. Ignoring the announcement of his defeat, the Governor General turned to his assistants. “And shouldn’t you all be working right now? How much are we paying you again?” That shut all the devils up and even had the fallen angels frozen in place. “Back to work already!!”

His command was quickly obeyed as Azazel landed back on the couch with a growl. “They were just taking a break.” Shirou said with a smile as his character jumped in place with peace signs.

“They can take a break in their own time.” Azazel grumbled as he stared at the screen.

“You are just upset because you lost again~” The redhead couldn’t help himself.

By the twitch on Azazel’s brown he clearly was right. “Best of 8 out of 15.”

Shirou chuckled and shook his head, placing his control down. “You do know that doesn't help your case, right? We could at least play something else.” They were relaxing in the middle of the lab using the central computer as it held hundreds of options for entertainment and Azazel asked for a classic fighting game. “Pouting at me isn't going to change anything.”

“I am not pouting.” He was definitively pouting.

Which only made Shirou chuckle some more. “Dude, you are thousands of years old. Accept defeat.”

“If I accept defeat, I can’t win.” Azazel replied with a grunt. “When did you have time to learn how to play so well? Didn’t you say you never played this one before?”

“Meh, played the others and the formula didn’t change that much between games. Just because the graphics are slightly old doesn’t mean most of the mechanics aren’t the same if a bit outdated.”

“You super armored thought my special! You knew you could do that. You must have played this version before.”

“What I had was a competitive older sister who would bully me everytime she won.” His father would let her too and Illya could be downright mean when she was smug. “To be honest, I kinda prefer this style. Wish I had this one back home instead of the later versions.”

It was a clear attempt to change the subject an olive branch to calm Azazel down. “Why, because they tried to make something more realistic? The anime aesthetic is nice, I will give you that, but it shows too many polygons.” Studying the development of gaming was becoming one of his hobbies.

“Just because it is old and unpolished. There are plenty of modern games that do a better job with the same aesthetics.” Shirou commented with a shrug, even if he sounded uncertain. “Maybe they did it better in the last versions, kinda stopped picking them up after my sister and I got more into Magecraft or started doing other stuff together.”

“But you still haven't forgotten the combos. Good grief, you picked her the second the character selection was up.” Complained the Cadre while pointing at the character still in her victory pose. A pose he had already seen several times in the last 25 minutes. “At least we can now call you a ‘Thigh Man’ for sure.”

Shirou rolled his eyes and went out of the victory screen. “Do you want to play more or not?”

“Oh, not even going to defend yourself? Are you finally admitting you are a ‘Thigh Man’?” Poked the Cadre a little more.

He could already see Shirou’s calm façade cracking under pressure as just a glare was enough to tell him the magus was affected. “You insisted that we played some games today. I was looking forward to getting some training in but nope, not under Azazel’s watch.”

“With how much you work on the forge you can’t say you are skipping arm day.” The fallen angel pointed out. “Or you could cut some time with the girls-”

“Baraqiel talked with you, didn’t he?” They barely left the Vault but apparently spending time with Akeno, and Xenovia to a lesser extent while having a relationship with Akeno, was enough to tick the more powerful fallen angel off. And Azazel confirmed his brother was the stronger of the two, not a reassuring thought. “If he has any problems with how we do things, he can come talk to me himself.”

Laughing in a loud bark, Azazel didn’t hold back his disbelief. “And piss off his daughter? Disregarding all the problems they have, no father would challenge their ‘darling little priestess’. Much less, Baraqiel.”

The redhead and all devils in the room looked at Azazel, the Mage’s reaction the more tame with a single raised brow. “Does he really calls Akeno-”

“Yes and he is unashamed of it. Odds are Akeno is going to be more worried about what her father calls her than him.” Replied the older man, chuckling. “Think she will pop a vein?”

With a casual smile, Shirou replied with a simple, “Not really.” Before turning off the console and typing on the computer to synchronize it with the Underworld sole TV station. “Say, what time is it?”

Cue for Xenovia to enter the lab with a concerned look. “Master, you missed breakfast.” She looked around noticing some absences in the room before shrugging it off and approaching the duo on the couch. “And you are… not working today? Wasn’t your break a few days ago?”

“Actually we are taking a break because we have nowhere else to go in terms of research.” Azazel announced with a self-deprecating shrug that earned him a glare from Shirou.

“You make it sound like we failed.”

“We are waiting for a god to give us some help. At that point, we kind of did.” Azazel shot back with a chuckle.

Xenovia was a little confused but shook her head and turned to Shirou. “The others were worried and if I knew you guys weren’t working I would have come sooner.” Her tone was full of guilt.

Something Shirou refused to let simmer. “No, that is my fault. I forgot to explain why I have so much free time these days. Basically Noble Gears-”

“Hit a metaphorical wall and we are waiting for some help.” All the redhead did upon being cut off was let out a sigh and nod in agreement. “Mixing Noble Phantasms with… anything really, is tougher than I expected.”

“Well, they are crystalized Legends, right?” Xenovia asked innocently.

“But Legends can be updated.” Azazel pointed out with a smile. “Look at Medusa, for instance...” Looking behind the bluhead, he noticed the absence of the goddess and her white haired scout. “Still working hard with Akeno? What are they doing anyway?”

“Besides getting the record straight on a new religion? You talk like that was a small thing to do.” Shirou’s deadpan stare had his lab partner raising his hands in surrender. “Let them be. If anything it is great that Medusa has something to do now.”

The Cadre nodded with a smile. “Ditto. It just would be easier if she was here to confirm what I am about to say.”

“I trust you, Governor General. It is doubtful you would try to mislead me or anyone else.” Xenovia stated confidently, surprising Azazel. Then she shrugged nonchalantly. “Master wouldn’t allow you to trick me anyway.”

That sounded more like what he expected. “And there went the idea I was going to make a new friend.”

The knight blinked twice before replying. “We can be friends.” Tilting her head she continued. “But we aren’t that close yet. If anything, we are strangers and Griselda taught me to not talk to strangers without a figure of authority.” She looked at an amused Shirou who just wanted to see where this conversation was going.

He was all for getting back to the original question about Legends but the magus was deeply curious about what was going to win; Xenovia’s bluntness or Azazel’s unflappability.

The ball was on the Cadre’s court. “You spend days in this lab trying to get Durandal to accept making some changes, with my help I might add.”

“Yeah but most of the time you are just talking to my Master or asking me about Durandal.” The bluehead shot back and Shirou had to close his mouth to not laugh at the face Azazel had. “I mean, I don’t mind talking about Durandal but Griselda said that isn’t a way to make friends. ‘Friends should talk about more than swords’ or ‘how many kills you got in the last job’. Funnily enough it worked with Irina.”

“Yeah, well…” Suffice to say that Azazel lost that round. “I would love it if we could be friends.”

“Cool. I don’t mind either if you invite me to play games.”

It was then that Shirou decided to intervene humorously. “Only if you are more careful to not break the controls. Remember to mind your strength even when you are losing.” He chuckled and pointed his thumb to his lab partner. “Not that you need to worry about this guy. He is a pushover.”

“Oh ha ha HA.” While there was no heat in the sarcastic laugh, Azazel made sure to look wounded. “Just because you won a couple of times doesn’t mean you are that good of a player.”

“My 7-0 score says otherwise.” Cue to Xenovia clapping even if she didn’t know all the details. The devils followed suit and the others fallen angels joined after and Shirou decided to be a little coy. “Thank you, thank you. You all are too kind.”

“Nobody is getting a raise after the end of the month!” At Azazel’s decree, even Xenovia stopped despite not being involved. “That is better.”

“Cough. Soreloser. Cough.” The redhead couldn’t help himself and turned to his lover, not giving Azazel the chance to reply. “Either way, we were talking about Legends, right?” The bluehead nodded, fully focusing on him. “You see, Xenovia, the thing is that while most Legends are set in stone, they can be updated if enough people believe it hard enough. Or the god’s followers add something with their permission-”

Azazel went behind Shirou and grabbed him in a choke hold that had the redhead trying to break free immediately. “In Medusa’s case, her Legend also added this guy here.” Not that the Cadre would allow him to get out easily. “That is why some call him her Champion and stuff- YAAOOHH!!!!”

To get free, Shirou went straight for desperate measures and bit Azazel’s arm with Ki Reinforced teeth. “You didn’t need to mention that.” He turned back to Xenovia with a shrug. “It was more because I helped her return to her Original self.”

“The one born from another goddess, not the Original goddess herself by the way.” Azazel added while blowing his arm to get rid of the pain. “Are your teeth made of steel too?”

“When I want them to be.”

The bluehead ignored their shenanigans and focused on the information. “So you guys are trying to add things to Durandal’s Legend?”

She was a little disappointed when Shirou shook his head. “Maybe in the beginning but in Durandal’s case we tried something different after a couple of setbacks.”

“Not that trying to activate something that is already there or add stuff already on its Legend helped.” Grumbled the Cadre as he sat back down and crossed his legs. “Can’t add, can’t modify the damn thing. Creating a sacred gear from scratch is easier than messing with Noble Phantasms, I swear.”

Noticing his lover’s confusion, Shirou elaborated. “Remember when you activated the characteristics of Hector's sword?”

“The bronze aura? Sure. Not really useful but I can still do it.” Xenovia touched Durandal, which rested on her back, ready to demonstrate it if necessary.

It wasn’t as Shirou just moved on. “Well, Durandina did more than just protect Troy. One important part of its Legend was the defeat of Patroclus and the taking of Achilles’ original armor.” He gave her some time but his knight didn’t realize what he was implying.

Maybe because Azazel didn’t give her enough time by just cutting in. “So it shouldn’t have been a stretch giving Durandal something like that armor for you to use.”

“Wait, wait, wait, hold on just a minute. I get to wear Achilles’ armor?” Xenovia excitement was palpable.

It truly hurt the magus to put a damp on it. "Unfortunately no. Well, unless you want me to forge-”

“It wouldn't be the Divine one either way. You know, the one that didn’t fail twice.” Azazel interceded with a chuckle. “Instead you would get a version of Achilles original armor, but using Shirou’s steel and empowered by Durandal. However, as stated previously, it was a bust.” The Mage had no choice but to nod in agreement.

“So you two gave up? That doesn’t sound like you, Master.”

“We didn’t give up. We are waiting for help.” Shirou scratched his head and sat down as well, waving for Xenovia to take a seat too. “Azazel decided that our knowledge isn’t enough to finish the project. Unlike creating a sacred gear from scratch, we are trying to affect the metaphysical side of something whose existence is already more than settled in the World.” He noticed her confusion and simplified. “Durandal is too much of an indestructible and complete Noble Phantasm.”

“Ah, I got it. But that doesn’t mean you could do the same with others?” Sure she would be disappointed but then again Xenovia liked the idea of using two swords so that was a work around.

It was Azazel who spoke next, clearly frustrated. “And admit defeat every time we come across a ‘too perfect Noble Phantasm’? Screw that, I refuse defeat.” The Cadre’s fist slammed on the couch’s arm with a confident smile. “Besides, we haven’t run out of alternatives and I was planning on Shirou learning anyway runes. Primeval Runes.”

“And so we need to wait for the teacher.” The Mage glared at the fallen angel for what felt like the hundredth time that week. “Who Azazel’s refuses to name.”

“It is a surprise~” He dodged the punch on his shoulder but Shirou wasn’t a quitter so the fallen angel took the second one. “Hahaha! Don’t worry. You are going to love him.”

Ignoring the byplay between the lab partners, Xenovia noted something odd. “Why don’t you know these Primeval Runes if they are so useful?” The question was obviously for the older man.

Who looked a little embarrassed, especially when Shirou raised a brow as he agreed with the question even if he hadn't thought about it before. “Because I didn’t get permission to learn them. Odds are that if any, Shirou will himself only learn two or three…”

The words sounded odd to the former Exorcist. “Who is so powerful that can deny you, the Governor General of Grigori, anything?”

“An ally.” The man sounded absolutely certain of his words, showing how much he trusted that entity. “An ally that holds his own secrets zealously. The same way I won’t teach him about sacred gears, he won’t teach me Primeval Runes.” Noticing the concern around the couch, he shrugged. “Our alliance isn’t official and we answer to some people; Shemhazai will rip off my tongue if I give up our secrets without a proper alliance.”

“Then why do I get to learn?” A question gave birth to many others and Shirou suddenly realized he had trusted in Azazel a little too much. It wasn’t a bad thing, the man proved himself trustworthy, but the redhead was starting to believe he gave the Cadre too much credit. “I mean, I don’t mind. It is always great to learn something new. Especially if it will help with my ‘research’.” He wanted to say soul but the three of them weren’t alone in the room.

About his students, Shirou felt safe entrusting them with minor tasks but not much else. The redhead barely knew them and in a way there was a distance that came with him being the teacher and seen by them as superior. Such a relationship made the Mage uncomfortable every time he tried to approach and helped him realize why he had an easier time with Xenovia.

It helped him that while Xenovia saw him as important she also saw him as an equal in most matters. Besides calling him ‘Master’, which he tried to convince her to not enough times to lose count, most of the time the bluehead just treated him normally. Respect was always there and most recently affection but unless they were training or he gave an order she just did her own thing.

So despite some attempts Shirou failed in establishing true trust with the devils and fallen angels working on his workshop, trusting them only because Azazel did.

Still the other two in the talk understood what he meant. “I explained before, right? How the actual runes that most magi use are a watered down version born from research and incomplete notes?” The redhead nodded, vaguely remembering that talk. “Either way, the real meat of runes belongs to just a few Pantheons and I managed to get a teacher for you from one of them. He will pop up here for a day, give you a lesson and leave, just like that.”

“But why me? Is it because of my ‘research’?” Shirou was sure nobody would betray and talk about his Reality Marble.

Something which Azazel basically confirmed still was the case. “No, it is because you are human and he isn’t going to teach you everything.” The swordsmen were confused, much to the fallen angel amusement. “Do you really think you are the first human to get these lessons? Where do you think the watered down version of runes came from?”

While that discussion was going on, Xenovia was trying to dig through what Griselda taught her about runes or similar systems.

She remembered her guardian describing it as ‘prayers from another land’, how the symbols could have numerous meanings and to never underestimate someone using them.

Unfortunately  Xenovia was caught napping more than once in those lessons, she was just a child at the time and the sort of person who always appreciated more the physical side of training.

That didn’t mean she forgot all she managed to learn including an important detail. “So it is either a Celt or an Asgardian?” Her words caught both men off guard and they turned to her. “Runes come from them, right?”

Azazel nodded with a smile. “Whoa, I really need to check what the Church is teaching these days. But wait, you were taught mostly by Griselda, right? Of course she would teach you that. ‘Pagan knowledge’ my ass.” Not that he disagreed with her methods, Then, as he realized something, he pouted. “Damn, you almost ruined the surprise with that guess. Lucky for us Shirou still has two whole Pantheons to pin down who his teacher is.”

“Well, I know he is a man from what you described.” Shirou pointed out his slip of the tongue and Azazel waved him off. “But they are coming here to just teach me for a day?”

“Don’t underestimate gods, kid.” The Cadre turned serious as his gaze grew sharp. Sitting before them was the Governor General once again. “Those guys have tricks that angels, humans and most beings in the universe can’t even begin to understand. If he says one day is enough, one day is enough.” Holding his chin in his hand, he looked a little more laid back. Just a little. “You grew accustomed to a reduced goddess because of Medusa but trust me on this; once she has enough followers she will be able to do things that will boggle your mind if creating life on a daily basis isn't enough to impress. They are gods, after all.”

From the little gift Baraqiel received from Medusa, Azazel knew she already could compress space by herself without outside assistance. Even he, the top authority in sacred gear research, needed to prepare the right kind of equipment and spells to compress their existence in something easy to carry.

That was why they needed a god’s assistance, to link what they wanted to add to what already existed into a Noble Phantasm, something that existed in its own category.

‘Deus Ex Machina indeed.’ Azazel joked in his own mind. “Want me to narrow it down for you a little more? Certain gods have certain advantages and it is always connected to their domains.” He raised two fingers. “Medusa is a goddess not only connected to Snakes and Beauty so don’t think for a second her capabilities are the same as one connected to War or Knowledge. And we need the latter.”

“By the same coin, the more Domains a god has, the more benefits come and not just from their Authority.” Shirou concluded, much to Azazel’s surprise. “A god of Knowledge would gain that for many things but would still fall short in matters of war unless they are a god of War. Did I get that right?”

“Heh, glad that I don’t need to explain.” The black and blond haired man turned to Xenovia with a smile. “And so that is why we aren’t working right now. His instructor is going to arrive tomorrow so we are just relaxing.”

“Tomorrow?!” It was the first time Shirou was hearing that.

“But what about your metal? Wasn’t that a thing.” Xenovia’s curiosity was still out and about.

“Yes, tomorrow.” Azazel replied to the redhead first, amusement pouring as the magus threw his hands in the air and accepted reality.  “The whole point was to mass produce the metal, something that me and Shirou can’t necessarily do by ourselves.” His thumb pointed to his back, the assistants hard at work in forges and machines. “We could make a lot of it with time, but that would be boring and exhaustive. Basically we would have to give up everything else to actually make enough for it to matter. So we changed a few steps and got them to work. The goal was always for those guys to learn how to synthesize it by themselves from the beginning anyway.”

Which was one of the legitimate failures from their lab so far, while Azazel had enough knowledge to reproduce Shirou’s metal once he fully understood the recipe, he was the only one.

No other fallen angel managed the same feat and a similar problem happened to the devils that while working hard to impress their teacher lacked the proper knowledge of Alchemy and had their magic didn’t help matters at all when making a stable sample, much to everyone’s disappointment.

It wasn’t just a matter of imagination but science and the application of it with magic, that was Alchemy. And unless their name was Ajuka Beelzebub they were a little behind on that.

“Since the only work we need done is figuring out a way that a lot of people can produce the metal, there is nothing the two of us can really do. We are just too good.” The Cadre added pompously.

“What he means to say is that the two of us can produce the metal easily with my method.” Shirou amended. “But since the goal demands someone with, well…”

“Less skill than us.” The fallen angel happily supplied.

“Yeah… we realize with us working on it we would force progress where there was none.” The Mage of Swords messed with his hair in frustration. “It is so annoying.”

Helpfully Azazel patted his back, understanding his frustration. “Basically, that is why we are warming the bench and letting our assistants take care of this project.” He looked back to see the two camps working separately since their leaders weren’t involved any longer. While there was no animosity, both sides disagreed too much to work together. “Earn that paycheck guys, earn that paycheck.”

Neither Mage nor Cadre liked that their people needed them to work together but they knew forcing the issue was just going to be detrimental but what annoyed them the most in equal measure was that they couldn’t complete the mass production aspect of their project.

Their abilities were just too great compared to the average smith so every time they worked with metal they instinctively tried to make the best they could even with average metal which was how Shirou came up with the idea of his metal in the first place.

So if they wanted a recipe someone normal could work with, they couldn't be involved, which frustrated them both immensely.

“Wait, so you have been having no work for how long now?” Xenovia couldn’t help but ask.

“A few days.” Shirou said with a shrug. “Not that I didn’t have work. I had a lot of stuff to finish and I still spent my time with you guys in the afternoons.”

The bluehead remembered how the redhead followed her to the gym after lunch just the day before. “And you didn’t say anything to not get in the way of our training?” She deduced.

“Pretty much.” Shirou didn’t mind sitting around and just talking with them while they did whatever they wanted. “And I also got to see if you were pacing yourself better. Which you still aren’t.” Xenovia’s blush had him smiling as the topic was one of the few things capable of affecting her.

Still her first concern wasn’t herself. “But you should have said something, Master.”

“What he isn’t telling you was that you were the last to notice, focused on training as you were.” Azazel laughed at the new glare Shirou gave him. Found the shame on Xenovia’s eyes adorable if nothing else. “Don’t look like that, you are driven. That is a good thing.”

“But as my Master’s lover I am a failure.” Shirou’s facepalm was loud enough that the whole lab heard it. Not that detained Xenovia. “Looks like I still have a lot to grow as a woman.” She nodded, her resolve stronger than before.

‘This is better than any comedy. Now if I could only get some popcorn.’ Azazel thought while Shirou tried to tell Xenovia there wasn’t any problem and he didn’t mind watching her train. “If you used some tight shorts I bet he really don’t mind~”

“Can you just forget about the thighs thing?”

“Oh, it finally bothered you. Or is it because we are in front of your woman? One of them, I might add…” The redhead wasn’t embarrassed and looked much more irritated, like the fallen angel was an annoying fly he couldn’t get rid of.

“Shiro can watch me whenever he wants.” If anything she was proud of the fact.

Turning to his lab partner, Azazel’s confusion was visible. “Are you sure she was really raised in a Church?”

Despite Xenovia not being bothered by the comment, Shirou still took upon himself to mess Azazel’s hair as a come back. “Don’t tease her. Xenovia just knows what she wants.”

Speaking of what she wanted. “So you are free today?” Xenovia looked around just to be sure he wasn’t secretly working on anything.

“Pretty much. Nothing else on the back log, nothing to work on until tomorrow.” The last word was said with intensity and a glare at Azazel who just smiled.

None noticed how one of the devils in the room cringed, certainly not an excited Xenovia. “Can I get a do over?”

“You want to do something together?” Shirou said easily. ‘For someone who just wanted children…’ Not he was going to point that out, he wanted his knight to be happy after all.

“Yeah, we can train together. It has been a long time since we had a proper spar. It will also help me pace myself for later.” And she had plans for the night because thanks to her still over training, she hadn’t managed to scratch a certain itch.

Clearly Shirou understood some of her desires even if his face held a mildly sad expression. “Hmm, that would be nice but can we do that the day after tomorrow or even tomorrow after whoever Azazel invited leaves?” The disappointment in her face was palpable. “It is just that while I spent some time with you, I haven’t hung out with Akeno yet. It would be unfair.” While Xenovia looked disappointed, she easily nodded regardless. ‘This is why having a relationship with multiple people was a terrible idea.’

When everyone’s feelings were involved stuff just got more complicated and complex. It also made things seem more unfair than they should or shouldn’t be.

Partially why he hadn’t just announced to everyone his free time was because Shirou knew that once it was known one of the girls would ask him for more. It was inevitable really as Akeno claimed to be his girlfriend while Xenovia, faithful to her oaths, liked to spend time with him in general.

And the guy didn’t even want to start to think how complicated things would get when Rias and Yoruichi returned to the picture. ‘Good grief, why can't I have a normal soul? Why didn't Rias mind sharing? Then again, at least this way everyone stays happy.’

Shirou did sincerely love each and everyone of them in their own way and was ripping plenty of benefits of having that many relationships because each was different. But he also knew that organization was going to be key if he wanted to keep four women happy. Talking with them would help and he planned to do it when they were all together.

That or talk with three and inform Yoruichi after because that woman was truly like a cat; she would come in, do as she pleased and get back to work unless Koneko needed something.

Or she just wanted to spend some time with her adopted sister while talking about their brother holding the fort in Kyoto. If it wasn’t for Rias burying the hatchet with her parents over Riser then they would probably be there right now. Something for the Winter Break if nothing else happened, even if just for a couple of days.

“Shirou, Shirou… Shirou, you there bud?” Azazel snapped his fingers in front of the redhead’s face.

“Right, sorry. Was lost in my mind for a moment.” Both of them stared at him. “Not like that. Normally, ‘thinking too much’ as Medusa would say.” Shaking his head he focused back on Xenovia. “So yeah, sorry but it wouldn’t be fair not spending the afternoon with Akeno.”

Much to his relief her disappointment was now completely absent. “It is fine. You are right, Shiro, it wouldn't be fair. Especially considering that you and Akeno haven’t gone all the way yet.”

“Please don’t talk about my niece like that.” Azazel was almost begging to not have that conversation.

Xenovia didn’t get the proper cue. “Why? It was her choice anyway…”

“But she is still my niece.” Was the reply and still not enough. So he tried something else. “My brother can still kill me.” That was enough for the bluehead to let it go.

“We both know it is never coming to that.” Shirou said happily even if he wasn’t going to keep the subject going. His mind was on other matters. “Anyway, sorry about that, Xenovia.”

“I already said it's alright.” The former Exorcist folded her arms and looked to the side. “But you are going to be available tonight, right?” Her beautiful smile would have the redhead’s knees weak if he wasn’t sitting down. She leaned forward, her face close to his. “But you are free tonight, right?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Then it is settled.” Xenovia declared firmly before pointing to the Mage’s nose. “After dinner you have fun with Akeno, you can come to my room so we can have sex.”

“Again, were you really raised by the Church?” Azazel asked in disbelief. “Even the most open minded of them are still a little prudish and you just… goes on and says that.”

“Is that a problem?” The woman asked with almost childlike innocence.

“No, no, just… surprised is all.” The Cadre wasn’t the only one, even the devils and fallen angels behind him didn’t know how to react at her bluntness.

Which only made the magus chuckle, already used to it even if this new extreme had him blushing a little. “So you want me to go there straight after dinner or-”

“That would be perfect.” Xenovia nodded and unlike her lover she had no flush or problem with the topic as even Shirou was a little conscious of it.

However there was someone that was more worried about the topic of conversation than others and not for the obvious reasons. “Sir…” Approached one of the youngest, if not the youngest devil.

The trio stopped any more discussion upon hearing the hesitation on the devil’s voice. The man looked young and despite Shirou and Xenovia actually being younger the black haired youth felt more so with his meek demeanor. He was lean, tall and had the build of a swimmer similar to Shirou's but with his arms a little bigger.

Taking everything into account the devil looked like someone who should be in college and being called ‘Sir’ made the Mage a little self conscious but he pushed that aside due to concern for everything in his subordinate posture screamed panic and fear.

“Are you alright?” Was the first question that jumped from Shirou’s mouth and he knew it was the right one when the young man jumped in place. Mage and Cadre quickly stood up with the redhead motioning the devil to the couch. “Hey, come sit down a little.”

“Are you hurt?” Azazel didn’t bother to hide his concern as Xenovia took a step back to give them space. Upon the younger man's shake of the head he turned to another question. “Are you sick or something?” Another shake of negative. “Family? Don’t say it is nothing, you look like someone walked on your grave.”

“Azazel…” Shirou hissed with worry.

“What, you know it is just an expression.” The Cadre waved it off easily. “Unless he is cursed or something.”

When the devil grew more pale, Shirou hissed again. “Seriously? Can we not jump to conclusions?”

“What is the problem?” Xenovia asked directly and under her stare the devil grew smaller like she was the one he was afraid off.

Which Azazel noticed quickly. “Okay, now this is odd. You worked with Xenovia just the other day and you didn’t react like that.” Realizing they didn’t need the ‘carrying leader’ but the ‘tough boss’, he put a stern face and his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. “Look, if you screw up, you need to talk.” That got an instant reaction as the devil looked at the fallen angel. Still fearful but it showed Azazel he was on the right track. “Don’t be like that. There was no explosion so I doubt it is as bad as you think.”

The devil looked between his two bosses hesitantly and began to fidget before long. At his expression Shirou’s worry grew and while Azazel waited patiently.

The Governor General knew the face of a concerned employee that knew they screwed up and needed to come clean quickly or their mind would crack like an egg. All he needed to do was a small push, look mean and his reputation would do just fine most of the time. The rest of the time threats could come but the devil before him was going to talk in a minute at most.

“Just say it!”

“I scheduled a meeting with Lady Lakmia! For today!” Or there was Xenovia’s method of just forcing a fight or flight reaction.

Unfortunately for the employee, he was very close to losing his job. “I am sorry, can you repeat that?” Shirou asked as politely as he could, considering the forced smile on his face. “I think I heard something, that I was pretty sure I mentioned multiple times around the lab, that I didn’t want it to happen.” The devils around flinched except the one in the couch, that one was squirming and Shirou took a deep breath to calm down. “Let’s start from the beginning, alright?” He nodded slowly and the Mage continued. “You are the one who is called Lakmia?” He nodded again. “And you said I have a meeting with her for today?”

“I am sorry, sir.” The guy was about to cry at that point but Shirou just massaged the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t want to do it but the Matron kinda took over the conversation and- and- and everybody left me hanging!”

“Flint! Your rat, tattletale!” Another of the devils insulted which pretty much confirmed the story and had Shirou hiding his face in his hands.

“Welp, that is why you leave these things to a real secretary.” Azazel commented with an off hand chuckle, much more relaxed now he knew it wasn’t a big deal. “They are professionals for a reason.” A groan was all the response he got but the Cadre let that go for the moment, turning back to the devil. “You really should have told us that sooner. Would have spared yourself a heart attack, if you devils could get one anyway. Now Shirou here has two meetings scheduled. At least I had the decency of giving him some time.”

Despite his concern, Shirou still managed to reply. “You only told me that a few minutes ago. For tomorrow!!”

“And you have 24 hours to prepare.” Shirou was tempted to throttle Azazel. So tempted. “Not that you need to prepare much. Hey, Flint, was it?” The other black haired man nodded slowly. “What exactly did Lakmia wanted? Wasn’t just delivering her sword?”

“She claimed the Master promised to inspect her collection.” He was mixing a few words but the message was received and Shirou groaned again. “My apologies, sir. I completely fell in her rhythm and couldn’t get a word in. If you wish to punish me, go ahead, I will take it.” Flint threw himself to his knees, practically crying.

It was enough to erase any anger Shirou could have. “Alright, stop with that already.” Flint would still be punished but that much begging was getting too pathetic for the redhead. “The mistake is already made so I will deliver the sword myself.” He couldn’t help but sigh.

“Thank you, Mage of Swords. You are truly a great man.”

“I swear you sound more afraid of Lakmia than of losing your job.” Shirou pointed out while starving off a headache.

Surprisingly it was Xenovia who explained. “She made a name during the Underworld Civil War, the Lakmia Gremory of Thousand Ruins. Someone told me she was considered powerful, led troops during the war and was ruthless against those who didn’t surrender immediately.” Shirou turned to stare at her while Azazel nodded his head in agreement. “I asked around the gym. Not only is she known for being cruel with her enemies but her loyalty to the Gremory is above question. That is why they entrusted Ruenas to her.”

Clicking his tongue, Shirou turned to Flint with an understanding look. “That is why you don’t want to go against her?”

“She can make our lives really hard, Master.” Every devil in the room nodded in agreement.

“Right, right. So can I.” A little of Shirou’s irritation returned but knowing the whole situation, he couldn’t punish Flint alone. “Everybody here, a week of reduced pay.”

“What?” “Master, be reasonable.” “That is unfair.”

“Shut your traps!” Xenovia’s order had everyone grow quiet and the fallen angels retreating to not get into the line of fire. “You disappointed our Master by allowing one of your comrades, the youngest of the bunch, to deal with the situation by himself. Shame on you all! Shame!!”

The devils looked properly scolded but Shirou still focused on Flint. “I understand that you were really nervous but you could have said it would be up to my discretion.”

“I tried, sir. I tried to say that you were busy but she barely let me get a word in once she knew her sword was ready.”

‘Great, that means she really manipulated the situation.’ Taking a deep breath, Shirou placed a hand on Flint’s shoulder. “You still failed your orders so the punishment stands.” Flint accepted it with a nod and returned to his companions who started to apologize for letting him deal with the Matron by himself. “‘Thousand Ruins’ you said?”

“Apparently she is a master of using the Gremory Power.” How Luck could create ruins Xenovia didn’t know but something in Shirou’s eyes told her he did.

Either way, the situation wasn’t as concerning as Azazel feared so he quickly relaxed. “You do realize you don’t need to go, right?” Pointed out the Cadre while grabbing the control and starting the arcade more of the game. “Send an apology with the sword saying that you have more important things to do. A small lie won’t hurt.”

“It wouldn’t be a lie. Akeno is more important than her.” Shirou replied coldly but honestly, surprising his lab partner.

“Woah, she really made a bad impression, huh.”

“Don’t, just don’t…” Shirou let a sigh escape before sitting back down, feeling more tired than before. “I get the idea of not doing things for free but I can’t help but think that if I didn’t give Xenovia a signal, if I didn't agree to make her a sword, would she just let those bastards escape and send us on our merry way?”

A voice on the back of his mind that sounded too much like his father told Shirou he was being irrational on multiple levels; he already had Fiton’s name and would be able to find the guy through his mana so Lakmia’s contribution wasn’t really relevant.

Yet, at that moment, he didn’t really know about the mana register nor how much information he needed from Lakmia. There was also the chance that the true responsible, Macabro, could be in a completely different location so it was valid that by giving his name the Matron had contributed enough.

Still the fact she valued any reward in that sort of situation didn’t sit well with him even if it made sense.

It made even more sense to Azazel. “You have to stop judging people here by human standards. No matter how much we look like it, we aren’t human.” The Cadre pointed out. “Lakmia is also a warrior and from what I heard she is fanatic about protecting the Gremory and you know more than most how strong a Gremory’s love can be.”

“Which is why I am not dismissing her outright.” He was in a relationship with a Gremory and Rias did a lot of stuff that a normal girl wouldn’t consider. The redhead had a literal harem at that point, even if he wasn’t going to admit it, and so he knew their common sense was different. “It doesn’t help that I am still a little afraid someone will still find that sword and make copies for the black market.”

At that Azazel burst into laughter. “If someone besides us or a Smith God can make another sword like that, I will be more than impressed.”

“Is it that powerful?” Xenovia’s focus shifted to the weapon as she looked around to try and find it.

However there were too many swords inside tubes which hid their powers and stopped her from identifying if they had anything special in the first place. Red Burst for exemple was still in a position of importance and easier to find for the bluehead but despite knowing its capabilities it looked just like any giant sword.

“Hahahahaha! Powerful? Not like Durandal or anything like that.” Little by little Azazel controlled himself and shook his head. “It is still a miracle of smithing unlike any before and an impossibility for any normal smith.” He pointed his finger towards the assistants around the lab. “Why, I doubt that even one of them will ever be able to make a sword like that even if they tried for a hundred years.”

“Can I see it?” Was Xenovia’s next question.

“Sure.” Shirou didn’t mind.

While his work was praised for being almost as good as Noble Phantasms, the abyss between an ‘almost’ Noble Phantasm and a real Noble Phantasm was farther than the Heaven’s was from Earth.

Yet the Mage stood up with some pride in his chest because thanks to Lakmia’s request he managed to make something even he considered impossible when the idea crossed his mind.

However he was someone with a Reality Marble and inside his soul there was a sword that was similar to the idea he had. It was still hard and took him a few days to get everything right as he got more invested in that particular work. Since he wasn’t trying to create something equal to the sword in his soul, he couldn't follow any existing blueprint.

Neither he was capable off with some as the secrets of the fairies were something far from either his or Azazel’s grasp. Still the idea wouldn't leave him alone until he was done.

His newest creation rested in a tub at the left of the lab, much like the others it was connected to a computer for analysis and updates for any energy fluctuation even if it had none to fluctuate.

More than power, Shirou focused on precision for that sword. Like many of his works it could channel mana but didn’t have any particular ability to speak of. However its own existence was singular because an ancient being Azazel more than confirmed no other sword was made like it.

After a few taps on the keyboard the tube opened and Xenovia tried to expand her senses to feel something but all she got was from her eyes.

From appearance alone the sword looked expensive with an elegant scarlet handle in a pattern that reminded the former Exorcist of thorns but going towards the blade in an unusual sheath.

Those thorns were big enough that a sword could be caught on them despite the weapon’s round guard.

The sword was also medium sized from the knight’s perfective, at least as tall as her arm if not slightly taller with a handle big enough for two hands. ‘A two handed sword… No, wait, it is a bit thin? What the hell?’ Then she noticed the sword’s red sheath.

It was round, a perfect circle unlike any other sheath she had ever seen. It made no sense to keep a sword in something like that, it would jump around and get damaged with that much space.

Except it wasn’t, it was perfectly form fitting from what she could tell. “Master, did you make a sword without a blade?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Shirou replied playfully while Azazel barked a laugh. “Of course it has a blade…” Taking the weapon from its resting spot, the magus didn’t hesitate to throw it. “Catch.”

Xenovia caught the weapon in one hand and was already surprised. “It’s really light.” And it wasn’t jumping around either, meaning that the weapon perfectly fit its round sheath. Carefully the bluehead began to draw the sword and grew astounded by what she saw. “Multiple blades?”

Then Shirou clapped the sword back down with a grin. “It wouldn't be fair if you saw it before the owner.” Xenovia pouted and Azazel laughed as he retrieved the weapon. “But yes, multiple blades bounded together, forged around a small piece of metal to hold its center. My metal.” Spinning the weapon in his hand, Shirou quickly rested the tip on the ground and used it for support. “With that the sword has no blunt side, no defensive options really. At least not any other than to stab or cut the other guy first.”

Kicking the weapon to give Xenovia a show, the Mage did a small flourish before offering it back to his lover. “So it can attack from any side and angle. What about the thorns?” She asked while taking hold of it again.

This time she was testing its weight with the sheath, respecting Shirou’s request to not unveil it just yet. “First I tried to make something in a spiral like Caladbolg. It was it that gave me the idea of creating a circular sword that is extremely hard to dodge.” Except he couldn't make anything equal to Caladbolg, not even just aesthetically unless he wanted the sword to be harmless. “Making a spiral with metal isn’t hard, making a sword of it on the other hand proved itself to be too difficult.

“So instead he decided to screw it and forge a sword with half a dozen blades in a circular pattern.” Azazel explained proudly.

Much to Shirou’s irritation. “Are you going to take all the reveals?” The Cadre pretended to lock his mouth with a key. “But yeah, that sword has six blades, not one.” He stopped suddenly, glaring at Azazel to see if he would talk. The man just smiled. “To avoid making them too heavy but keep the metal strong, I molded them around my metal and made sure the blades themselves were made as thin as possible.”

“But won’t they break under pressure?” Xenovia really wanted to draw the blade and study it further.

Her deduction was spot on except magecraft was a factor. “Thanks to Alchemy that won’t happen easily. While we were trying to reproduce my metal, we found a way to transfer some of its properties to steel on a small scale.” Shirou paused to look at Azazel who was just nodding along. “It isn’t enough to make anything big and it needs to keep in constant contact with the steel for the effect to work but that makes the blades as strong as my metal.”

“There are also drawbacks.” Shirou let out a sigh as Azazel couldn't hold himself back anymore. The man lowered his head in apology but kept talking anyway. “The steel can’t grow as strong as the metal and the more it needs to spread, the less power it has.”

“Six blades turn out to be the ideal number. When you add the metal in the center, that is seven.” Commented the magus with a chuckle, raising his hand so Xenovia threw him the sword back. She did and he pointed to the guard immediately. “See this? This is made of another combined steel with far less materials just so it didn’t get in the way of the Core right in the center.”

Understanding the explanation, Xenovia couldn’t help but be impressed. “So you created a blade that can cut in six different directions while stabbing six times at the same time.”

Nodding his head with a smile, Shirou drew the sword again just enough so the bluehead could see the blades. All of them were made in the typical Japanese style and would belong nicely in any katana or similar weapon. Except that much like the Mage explained they were thin, extremely thin.

Paying attention to the handle and blade Xenovia could see the dark metal holding the whole thing together but surrounded by swords as if the knight knew she wouldn't touch it without risking her finger.

The space between the blades was precise with its edges all outside and ready to cut whatever went their way. She imagined the balance was a pain to get right and that all six blades were identical down to the smallest detail. Truly a thing only someone with an extremely high level of skill or a Reality Marble could produce.

“Can I get one?” Was Xenovia’s next question.

Much to her disappointment, Shirou shook his head. “Unless you are planning to give up Durandal, no. This sword I made to Lakmia's specifications, for her fighting style I managed to glimpse from her weapons.” His face turned serious as he pondered the title ‘Thousand Ruins’. “Her own fighting style is about movement, that is the best way to describe it. This weapon focuses on getting close to the opponent and doing as much damage in any way possible before retreating.”

From what he gathered Lakmia didn’t like to parry or block, there were too few memories of her executing those actions and only when didn’t have a choice. No, what those weapons had were the memories of quick stabs and constant movements in any battlefield she fought.

She obviously didn’t get away unharmed everytime, Shirou saw more than once how the memory of her taking damage and having to fight with her off hand, but she was skilled and his creation was all about bringing out her full capacity.

“Since I created the flower sword exclusively for Lakmia, I don’t think it is suited for you. Sorry.”

“‘Flower sword’? That is its name?”

“No, just the type of sword it is. First of its kind if Azazel is right.”

“And I am right.”

Shrugging, Shirou rested the weapon on his shoulder. “This weapon is all about moving, scratching and taking the opponent down once getting an opportunity while forcing small wounds to goad them into a mistake. A fighting style of movement while yours, while not stationary-”

“I fight more in my opponents’ face.” Xenovia said easily, understanding that sort of weapon would break in her hands. “I like to clash and that isn’t a weapon for it.”

“That is exactly right. I know I promised you another sword but unless we can get something equally as good as Durandal, it is better if you just focus on it.” His explanation done, Shirou let out another sigh. “Still don’t want to go meet Lakmia again.”

Azazel hit Shirou in the back of the head, earning yet another glare. “Then don’t go. You are the Magician of Gremory for the stars’ sake. She can’t fire you or do anything, really.”

“But someone working for me said that I would go and I like keeping my word.”

“If you are worried about reputation-”

“It is not that. It is my word. Maybe I tried to dodge it, but after being called on it, it is only right to honor it.” Shirou commented with a frown. “The old man also never lied either.”

“The Magus Killer never lied?” A skeptical eyebrow was raised on the Cadre’s face and even Xenovia found it hard to believe.

“Emiya Kiritsugu isn’t the Magus Killer.” Was the only acceptable retort and while Xenovia took it as fact, the Cadre just remained silent. “Even then he always honored contracts, the letter if not spirit.” Also Shirou was trying to fight back the bias of his first meeting with Lakmia as Nero. “It is just some tea.” At the curious looks, he shrugged. “That is what I said I would drink last time. So I will do just that; take a look at the collection, get some tea and then leave.”

Azazel nodded in acceptance. “Hey, Flint, what time did you say the meeting was again?”

“I didn’t sir?” The jumpy devil gulped. “But she said after dawn.”

“Or the Underworld equivalent of night. Looks like Lakmia wants you to inspect more than her collection~”

“It ain’t happening. I barely know her.” Shirou replied easily, to devils and fallen angels' surprise. Not Azazel who just smiled. “Also, honestly, I have no idea of what to think about the Matron as a person. Demand for payment at the wrong time aside.” He knew Rias wasn’t like that and neither was Sairaorg. ‘Then again, she lived through a war, and that changes a person.’

“Do you want me to accompany you, Master?”

Rubbing his chin, Shirou pondered the question. “Do you want to come?”

“Not really.” Xenovia replied with a half shrug. “I don’t mind looking at some swords and even watching the Matron trying her own. Honestly, I would love to fight her.” The bluehead admitted with some enthusiasm before it was blown into the wind. “But that isn’t like to happen, is it?”

It was the Cadre who replied. “After getting her position I would be surprised if someone like Lakmia didn’t keep herself in shape, devils value power after all.” Good news if it wasn’t for his tone. “But then again, she isn’t waiting for a fight, just tea if nothing else. Perhaps talk about business?”

“If it is just business, I don’t mind.”

“Then, Master, I am sorry but count me out.” Xenovia never liked standing around doing nothing. It was the sort of mission she hated the most. “But I promise to compensate you later.” She said with a confident smile with certain implications.

“Seriously, what was Griselda teaching you?” Because Azazel was growing more and more interested in spending a night with that woman.

“To be true to myself.” As her oaths allowed her to be. “So, let's get some lunch before you go?”

“Sure, then I need to take a bath. Showing up for tea sweaty doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

“Don’t know, some girls like that.” Xenovia was one of them. Then an idea came to mind. “Since you have a few hours, you could spend them with Akeno.”

A smile grew in Shirou’s face. “It wouldn’t be as much as I would have wanted-”

“She is going to love it anyway.” Xenovia said decisively. “Besides, we will get to spend some time with Medusa and Liz too. I am certain they are feeling really neglected.”

“Liz maybe, I will admit, but Medusa is having too much fun training Akeno…” Both stopped as while they didn’t say it, they shared the same thought.

‘Way too much fun.’

“Don’t forget to be here by tomorrow~” Azazel sang with enthusiasm.

Only Xenovia saw Shirou roll his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. 24 hours notice and all that.”

“Technically you have 16 hours or so and in that case please just make sure to not stay up all night.” He didn’t even flinch when a flaming sword came flying and stabbed the couch which promptly began to catch fire. Not that it affected the Cadre who just remained sitting in the flames. “Also you are paying for a new couch.”

“Send me the bill.” Replied the retreating Shirou who knew he had been bested. He and Xenovia stepped into the elevator and moved towards the lunchroom.

The fallen angel wouldn't react for several minutes at least, a smug smile on his face as everyone else in the lab watched his seat burn. He ignored it, grabbed the control and began to play the game he had lost with a new character, trying to get a feel for it and planning to win the next rematch.

While all just watched and wasted time in his opinion. “You guys remember he just took away a week of your salaries, right?” Azazel reminded them with a smile. “If you don’t show any progress with the metal, then I will have to close it all down and you can say bye bye to any bonuses~”

That was enough to get the rest moving, ignoring the couch on fire and the man still sitting on it.

Even as the flames touched him, Azazel ignored them and just kept playing for a while until he was sure nobody was looking so one of his wings could quickly reveal itself and put the fire away without ceremony.

The couch was in general ruined but the place he was sitting on was unaffected, just as Azazel knew Shirou wanted.

While the redhead was obviously upset with him, the fallen angel knew he wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, just making things a little problematic for the Cadre as he will have to get a new couch.

‘Well, that is a way to express annoyance.’ Azazel wasn’t really bothered by the events and would keep teasing Shirou for as long as he could.

It was just too fun for him not to.

…..

After eating Shirou marched to the kitchen to make something for everyone, cooking for the first time in a long time. When he arrived at Akeno’s new training room, there was no denying how pleased everyone was when he and Xenovia presented them with four trails full of muffins.

Two extra were sent to Gasper and his teachers as he was in a different floor but the former dhampir would get some muffins with Shirou’s compliments even if his focus was mostly on Akeno.

Unlike her previous training location that looked more like a cave, the new one was more like a private gym with anything Medusa demanded would be necessary for her priestess development.

Not that she demanded much as the equipment was basic and most of the focus was in space.

Still some things were installed at the Goddess of Snakes request like a couple of mirrors with a long steel bar, extremely resistant targets, a sound system, a stage, a desk for her to work with and a TV set for Liz when she was bored.

The maid didn’t join the newly founded religion but still obeyed the goddess and acted as a bodyguard while taking some time to help Akeno spar under certain conditions like not using magic or fighting with a hand tied with a leg.

In most cases the Queen of Gremory would claim that Medusa was the harshest instructor she ever had but was still kind enough to stop the training completely when the muffins arrived.

Akeno was happy to share a trail with Shirou and Xenovia while the other two got a trail and a half each. There was even a little competition between them where the goddess managed to beat the maid for the majority of muffins eaten, much to the white haired woman’s frustration.

No one could really describe how much they missed Shirou’s cooking and Medusa even offered some pity for those that still wouldn’t partake from it for a few more days while they at least got these muffins.

Her new priestess offered a prayer to the goddess as well and the former Gorgon immediately turned to the Mage with a request to cook for everyone the day they got back together per her priestess prayer.

Shirou said he was already planning to do that but Medusa claimed that since her priestess prayed for it, she had to make the request herself anyway. Their relationship as goddess and worshiper was still developing and most of the time when Akeno offered a prayer, even a playful one, Medusa tried to deliver it.

That didn’t meant that goddess hadn’t some demands herself or wasn’t harsh on the training but she gladly gave the hybrid a pause for muffins and talk as the redhead expressed his desire to better spend time with her and Xenovia but was having troubles in balance it properly, apologizing to Medusa and Liz for neglecting them.

Neither really cared, Liz was happy to just be in his vicinity and having food whenever he made it, raising a muffin to prove her point. The maid turned teacher actually made it quite clear that if he cooked and she wasn’t invited to partake in the delights then they would have problems.

For her part Medusa was in the same school of thought with the addition that if he and Akeno go on a date they should inform her so she could spend the day doing her own thing which included still trying to write the first official manuscript of her religion.

Without much success so far but the goddess would freely admit she was procrastinating by training Akeno to not only be a better fighter but also into expanding certain skills that she saw as fundamental.

In either case both his girlfriend and lover agreed that any sort of conversation about schedules should have Rias present so nothing much was accomplished on that front.

Soon enough Shirou and Xenovia left, one to get ready for his meeting and the other back to her own training.

Sure enough the swordswoman offered to spar with Akeno but the proposal was shot down by the goddess claiming that it was time for another type of training and the bluehead could join if she wanted.

She rejected the moment Liz pressed a button in a remote control and loud music began to play at the studio. “Should we have a dance off?” Akeno was only half joking as Medusa quickly ordered for her to start her routine.

Xenovia practically ran away when she saw the energetic moves that Akeno was doing with her hands and feet, moves that should be endearing to anyone watching but everyone knew the ravenhead wasn’t skilled enough to pull them off properly just yet.

And the former Exorcist knew she would do much worse in that environment. Her skill was with a blade and while her steps were swift Xenovia would claim to have two left feet.

Akeno could give no excuses since the goddess refused them all. “One, two. One, two. And spin.” Guided Medusa with a harsh look while sitting in a director’s chair. Her eyes missed nothing and the ravenhead knew that any mistake would be immediately called out. “You are not moving your hands enough. Remember that for this kind of song they must always be above your bust when making that step. That is right, hide your eyes aaaaaaand reveal them slowly. That is it.”

Every praise was sincere because every pace was hard to execute. Akeno had no idea how hard dancing could be until Medusa introduced it both as part of her training and worship.

When she heard that the first time Akeno thought the purple haired girl was playing around or making some sort of joke. While dancing wasn’t necessarily strange in certain forms of worship, Japan focused most of that in festivities and the steps were usually slow and almost shy.

However Medusa was Greek as far as the goddess herself could claim and when she shared worshipers with her sisters, the goddesses loved the free spirited dances full of energetic movements.

Stheno and Euryale had been the ones taking care of things for the most part and taught their own dances with Medusa usually just watching so the youngest never had the chance of choreographing her own.

Which meant that now Medusa could go all out without her sisters, even if she took some inspiration from them. In fact Medusa worked all the steps herself and showed them to Akeno with a precision that could only be called ‘perfect’. It was another aspect of Divinity that she was still exploring as the Core of her sisters still made her a goddess of Idols.

A Muse in many ways even if the real Medusa knew she was something else deep down. If her sisters were still around, she knew their steps would be superior and if anything they would be sharing worshipers again.

That of course was never going to be the case as Medusa was now a sole goddess and had to plan and take care of her worshipers herself, by herself more precisely. She needed to plan and teach everything that would be of use, be either demonstrations of love or means to use her blessings to defend themselves.

Even if it was just Akeno for the moment, both knew that in the future there would be more and the blueprints for their happiness was being built at that very moment in the Vault of Prosperity.

Dancing was just one of many things they were working on together and while the young woman was reluctant at first, she was starting to enjoy the work.

Especially after Medusa explained the purposes and benefits of dancing in her veneration. Even just in practice both could feel something shift in them as the goddess’ power filled the room.

Action and Faith, those had Medusa feeling her power growing little by little. Not being restored but actually growing as new energy filled her Core. The fact that Akeno danced despite her hesitation and lack of real interest, at least in the beginning, actually helped the goddess more.

Sacrifice, that was the last ingredient that gave the goddess more power and the more used to dancing Akeno grew, the less Medusa would get. Now the purple haired girl knew she could try and push the hybrid a little more but her conscience shot that down faster than light.

While dancing and eventually singing, and that was another boost right there, were part of things Medusa enjoyed and wanted to be worshiped with, she wasn’t going to add anything dangerous or harmful even if Akeno could actually take the damage.

She liked her High Priestess too much and planned to spread those lessons to some of her most faithful in the future. Adding anything humiliating or dangerous would go against her principles.

But not against her nature as her Core demanded she took an approach more towards her Snake side than her Woman side. ‘I wonder if that is where the dreams of having Akeno bath with snakes are coming from.’ Medusa could make it safe, of course, but if her religion really spread she could see people screwing up and dying. “Say, when you think you are going to be ready to sing?”

“I don’t think I will ever be ready for that…” Her breathing was even as the muscles of her feet were starting to hurt. Despite that they never stopped. “Do I really have to?”

“You do remember that as my High Priestess you will have to preach, right?” And Medusa was pretty sure her message was the kind which everyone could accept talking about health care, how to express oneself positively and not bully people for their size.

Three points so far and the goddess was proud of them. “Sure but that is different from singing.” And Akeno agreed with them all so far even if she wanted a little teasing to be allowed. “By the way, are we really adding hair care?”

“Of course. Long hair is the ultimate proof of a woman's elegance.” She threw her hair around and it danced despite the braids holding most of it in place. It was without a doubt beautiful. “The size, the volume, the treatment, all of those things indicate how well a woman takes care of herself. When longer, does it shine? If the answer is yes, you know that is a real woman.”

“A little unfair, don’t you think?” As a goddess, Medusa didn’t need to put that much effort in her hair. Akeno was in the same boat as for a long time she heard many classmates praise her hair and wanting to know what sort of products she used. “And what about boys? Should they have long hair too?”

That made the goddess stop and rub her chin. “No, I don’t believe long hair looks good on men… neither do beards?” Knowing little about the subject made Medusa think she was lacking. “Perhaps we should just accept women?”

“And lose at least half potential worshipers?”

“You are right, I will need to ponder it some more…” Medusa just didn’t care about men’s hair that much. “What we can’t have is women with short hair. That is a waste of potential. A woman with short hair fears the challenge of keeping it pretty.”

Still dancing, Akeno couldn’t stop herself from looking to the corner and notice a completely uninterested Liz who was laying down and watching TV. The white haired woman wasn’t a fool, she knew deep down she was being insulted even if indirectly and unintentionally.

She just didn’t care which actually was the basis for Medusa’s argument and Akeno knew it was a weak one to begin with considering how little Leysritt cared about things.

Yet,as a High Priestess, Akeno knew she needed to rein her goddess from time to time. “What if a woman is unable to grow her hair properly but she really wants to?”

“Then she should pray to me and I shall solve it!” Nothing would stop Medusa to make sure the women who followed her were the most beautiful in all Reality. Already she could see her ideal worshipers, enchanting all who came across their path. “For they all shall be idols, nothing less is acceptable!”

“I fear what she means by ‘idols’…” The ravenhead admitted if only to herself. ‘I won’t really have to sing and dance outside of private ceremonies, right?’ She was truly afraid to ask.

As she should and Medusa knew that Akeno would hesitate which was why she was planning to get a veteran idol to help complete Akeno’s training. ‘If I can get Serafall to stop hating me for a moment and see her own potential… While her control over her fans is horrendous, her confidence is something to be admired.’

That was the next part of her plan, the next worshiper that the goddess wanted if she could have her way, none other than Serafall Leviathan herself.

‘Since I am considered important I am sure I can get a meeting of my own. Perhaps some of Shirou’s cooking for a peace offer?’ Then use Serafall to promote Akeno and have her Priestess start spreading her religion properly.

Yes, it was far from ideal considering the plan hinged on a devil not holding a grudge, and from what intel she gathered in the Vault Serafall also had problems with Gabriel so that was an avenue she could use to get the conversation going, but that was more or less an last resort as Medusa didn’t want to start gathering worshipers through hate.

No, she had another path in mind, a path that was simple and beautiful in its simplicity, in her opinion at least.

The path of making Akeno a true idol in the Underworld. ‘Then we shall work on things back on Earth.’ That one was going to be easier with the ravenhead’s natural elegance and beauty. Medusa just needed to give her confidence. ‘First Japan, then the rest of Asia and finally, the World. At least the parts that allow music-’

Suddenly Medusa felt a powerful presence approaching her territory. Thanks to Akeno’s actions and devotion the whole floor was basically her domain so she knew all the comings and goings.

Be it a devil or fallen angel, the goddess knew everybody who should be on her floor even if she didn’t know their faces. She didn’t need to meet them as inside her boundary field, her ‘temple’, she could ‘taste’ their mana and know when anyone new approached the floor.

Blood Fort Andromeda also could be activated at any moment after the days Akeno poured into dancing under Medusa’s instructions and even another god would find her a hard quarry to catch.

However the power, hidden from anyone but at her thanks to Blood Fort Andromeda, held no hostile intent and ‘tasted’ of exhaustion. It was also familiar.

Too familiar as the daughter of that man was her Priestess. “Akeno, take five. Go drink some water while I deal with a guest.”

“Are you and Shirou-kun dealing with the same problem today?” Because she found that incredibly funny.

Akeno certainly didn’t expect the words that left Medusa’s mouth: “It is your father.” The sentence couldn’t have been heavier despite the light tone from the goddess. The ravenhead’s attitude took a complete turn to shy and hesitant. “Don’t worry, he isn’t here to talk with you. If anything, he just wants to give you a gift.” Her eyes turned to her friend before she continued. “Do you want to meet him?”

The ravenhead hesitated to do anything as Liz, noticing the mood, turned off the music and let the silence simmer.

Perhaps lying would be easier but Medusa refused to do so with her friend. “I sent him in a Quest, to gain power for you.” Said the goddess clearly as the power approached the door. “I half expected him to fail but either he gave up or was successful much faster than I expected.”

“... Was it something dangerous?” Akeno surrendered to concern and looked at Medusa expectantly.

Looking forward the goddess hid an amused smile. “Just as much as he could make it but since he returned, maybe not so much.” Not a single lie was told. “Or maybe he threw himself into the deepest holes he could find just to finish the Quest faster. That was his prerogative since all I wanted was parts of snakes as long as he didn’t harm them.”

“I see…” What bothered Akeno a lot was that Baraqiel did whatever he had done for her. To say the conflict in her heart grew worse was an understatement. “Should I-”

Medusa never would allow her to finish that question. “Do what you want. Go talk with him when you are ready, no sooner than that. This wasn’t for him to talk with you.” Once again the goddess looked forward and began to walk towards the door. “This was for him to try and redeem himself in his own eyes. Take your time.”

Nodding slowly, Akeno decided to accept her goddess' words and bow in gratitude. In the end the ravenhead knew her inner turmoil more than anyone but the goddess understood the need to take things slowly better than most. To take time and process everything that happened before making a terrible mistake.

Something Medusa knew all too well and so took steps to protect Akeno from falling prey to the same bloodlust and instincts that gave birth to the Gorgon. For those were still there, only muted and buried.

In fact Medusa was sure since Akeno swore herself to her and received the title of High Priestess that bloodlust became even more irrelevant.

The door slid open by itself and Medusa turned towards her Priestess who sat down to rest a little and take a glass of water. A last exchange of looks between them had the ravenhead nodding to let the goddess know everything was fine.

With that the door closed and the little goddess, a little bigger compared to when she arrived in the Underworld, made her way towards the hallway beside the studio.

She just turned the corner and froze at the sight. “Perhaps I should have Akeno come with me.”

Other fallen angels tried to help the bleeding Baraqiel but the Cadre pushed them back with a wing. “I am quite grateful she isn’t seeing me in this state.”

From head to toe the Lightning of God was covered in blood which was very much his own. There were gashes, cuts, some of his flesh was torn and he was using a hand to support himself with a wall. But he was still standing for the most part, just badly wounded to the point was sure that if he wasn’t a ten winged fallen angel he would be dead.

Hearing the other fallen angels panicking and trying to the side of what to do, Medusa flexed some of her energy and had Blood Fort Andromeda take a little of their mana as a warning.  “Where have you been?” It was one of their questions but coming from her it held more weight.

“Island of Snakes.” Baraqiel replied with a pained smile which had a pair of purple brows jump in the goddess forehead. "It is an island on the coast of Brazil that is closed to the public and contains a great variety of extinct species of snakes, as the name indicates.” Holding his left arm the man revealed the vase Medusa had bestowed on him and she felt the power in it. “But besides some species of common snakes there are also the giant variety that inhabit that place. Species that, of course, the average Joe would not know about.”

“The sort that belongs to the moonlit world.” At his nod, the man winced and Medusa took pity on him. Raising a hand she manipulated Blood Fort Andromeda once again and used it to restore his body. “Stay still. The rest of you, calm down.”

Baraqiel was surprised as some of his wounds began to disappear. “I am pretty sure you couldn't heal anyone but yourself.”

“This is a somewhat recent development. Consider it an Authority I didn’t know I had but started to understand once your daughter began praying to me.” Medusa watched the surprise on all eyes in the hallway as the other fallen angels stepped down and let her mana work on Baraqiel. His wounds closed and his blood restored, soon the man stood at his full height. “Besides, snakes have been the symbol of medicine thanks to Asclepius. I am by no means capable of restoring everyone completely without assistance as of now but in my ‘temple’, that is more than doable.”

Blood Fort Andromeda should be something to petrify and consume that Medusa could use besides her eyes when in a more intelligent state. However her experience back in Kuoh against Caliburn’s Holy Aura taught her she could do more with it. Of course it wasn’t simple, it still took too long to construct a boundary field and the cost was high without constant fuel.

However she had an worshiper now and that was a game changer. “Akeno’s Faith is true.” Announced Medusa to all in the hallway. “Thanks to her, the boundary field on this floor can stay up with minimal effort on our part as long as I call it a temple, a place of worship to myself.” She made no note that because of how the symbol was used, the place would be more fitting to be called a hospital.

“So this is your church, in a sense, however temporary.” Baraqiel nodded in understanding before frowning. “I don’t know if she would like you using her efforts to heal me.”

“As a goddess, I decide how to use my power. As her friend, I know she doesn’t mind.” The tallest fallen angel’s eyes displayed hope. “She may not be ready to meet you yet but clearly she cares. Trust me, I noticed it when I told her you were coming.”

Baraqiel felt a single tear falling from his eye before cleaning it up and holding back a sniff. “Akeno…” His voice was full of longing but quickly the man banished it and kneeled before the goddess. “Thank you for your kindness, great Medusa. Truly I am in your debt.”

“You owe me nothing.” It was more for her friend than the man before her. “As my follower I must take care of her but she is managing to recover with her own strength. Besides, if I had a voice in this matter…” Medusa studied the man carefully. “I believe you suffered more than enough to forgive yourself and her you.”

“No, I don’t want her to see me out of some sort of obligation or guilt.” He was resolute despite his plea. “If she is to see me, I want both of us to be ready and that she does it because she wants to. Perhaps this Quest cleaned some of my sins, real or not, but it will never clean the past.”

The goddess nodded in understanding and let the matter lie even if father and daughter wished to see one another but stopped themselves. Neither was ready and Medusa had no choice but to respect their wishes, no matter how much she wanted to have them meet again and be a family.

Because she realized how important family was. ‘My sisters would approve of me adding that to my laws, wouldn't they? I hope so.’ Looking at Baraqiel’s eyes, she said. “Then so be it.”

Baraqiel smiled gently. “Thank you again for taking care of my daughter.”

“She is my Priestess, my First Worshiper. It is only propper I look for her well being.”

Still the Cadre smiled and lowered his head. “Still I thank you for helping my daughter find happiness.”

“She is getting there through her own strength, the same way you are.” That made the man’s smile bigger and the other fallen angels watched them with admiration. Fine with Medusa but unfortunately they had business to tend. “So you went to Brazil to collect everything?”

“Yes, milady.” Baraqiel sounded even more respectful, holding the vase up. “However, the Island of Snakes was my last stop. Since there are many endangered species there, it is well protected both by mundane and supernatural means. The gods of the land also watch it closely.”

“I thought Brazil was a Christian country…”

“It is but much like many of the Scandinavian countries, there are still those who pray to the old gods if you know where to look.” Or, much like him, stumble on them while trying to find exotic snakes without getting caught. “The old Aztec gods still have a strong following, especially deep in the Amazon Jungle.”

Collecting the vase, Medusa handled it carefully. “I suppose you went there as well?”

“There are many species of serpents in that area. Thanks to human settlements I managed to get by below their radar for a while until.”

“Until you went to the Island of Snakes?”

"Exactly. I never suspected that a particular goddess had made it her nest even if she doesn’t spend much time there.” Touching his arm all noticed a wound that was taking more time to close than others. “It was a miracle that I survived and she didn’t realize my real identity.”

“Another Snake Goddess?” Medusa's tone was curious but cautious and Baraqiel nodded in confirmation. “Pity, I would have liked to visit that island.” Not a risk she could take as weak as she was. “Either way, a good job you managed to collect so many skins and fangs. I can also feel poison inside the vase. From the more monstrous snakes I presume.”

“You presume correctly, milady. The Quest was a resounding success if I say so myself even if I cheated a little by going only to one country.”

“No, you used your knowledge to reach your goal as fast as possible, aiming for the place where you would find many sorts of rare snakes.” She stared at the vase with admiration. ‘I can feel his love in every fragment collected. He harmed no one and outran a goddess to return them here.’

All for his daughter and Medusa knew it. Previously she planned to harvest some of his bounty to restore herself a little.

These plans went to smoke with the emotions held in the vase.

If she took anything for herself, it would be a crime that Medusa would be unable to find forgiveness and she knew it. Nobody would judge her, it was her Quest and that was the agreed payment so nothing was stopping her from using some of it for her own sake.

None other than herself.

“Rejoice, Baraqiel of the Grigori, I, Medusa, declare your Quest fulfilled.” The vase began to glow with her words and her Core knew exactly what to do.

Because she had done it before when working on her Gift for Shirou, the first creation she ever made. Medusa remembered Euryale working in many treasures, including a bow she gave to a hunter who killed a boar for them. Her sister was undoubtedly the superior craftsmith but that didn’t discourage Medusa.

And it was easier this time because she was working with something born from her power alone with no influence from her sisters other than what was already part of her Core.

So the vase began to take shape as Medusa felt everything Baraqiel collected fuse with her creation. Every skin, fang and drop of venom was broken apart by her Divinity and turned into energy as the vase transformed into a proper vessel. Other modifications were also necessary, the removal of infinity storage of snakes was unfortunately needed.

With how much energy it will be inside her new creation, Medusa knew anything added after the fact would be broken as well to become part of the power already in the gem. A backdoor would have to be created to allow more remains of snakes to be collected but the goddess wasn’t skilled enough to do it.

For she was still reduced and as such she was still lacking many things.

What Medusa was attempting to make was akin to a sacred gear, she learned as much as Shirou did and Azazel’s knowledge wasn’t lacking. Except that she was reduced and the distance between her current self and God was too large for her to cover even with the results of a Quest.

Still that knowledge came in handy as she already knew the form her new gift would take. ‘Jewels are best; easy to transport and to stockpile mana.’ There was a reason why so many sacred gears had jewels imbued or Jewelcraft existed. ‘The color will of course be purple, a darker shade honoring myself and her father.’

Baraqiel risked his life to collect the materials and Medusa shall honor it by mixing her color with black for his wings. It also would match with Akeno’s hair color and eyes nicely so it was an added bonus to the goddess.

Moving her hands, Medusa rested one at the mouth of the vase as the other held it from below. All watched as matter transformed right before their eyes with no energy being wasted or apparently even used. It reminded them how sacred gears could manifest without cost once the owner was aware of their presence.

It was the second time Baraqiel saw something like that ever since he Fell. Before he was used to watching his Father creating new things so he barely reacted.

Some of the fallen angels behind him never saw the process in person, most of them were descendants of his siblings, nephews and nieces he tried to learn the names of and protect at every turn in the honor of his original family.

It was with some mirth that Baraqiel was reminded of himself back in Heaven watching his Father work. The looks of wonder, of watching something amazing and unique as the first of something new came to the world. Unlike them the man was too used to it and found more wonder in their reactions than Medusa’s work.

Easily Medusa turned the vase into a jewel, a magnificent stone with a glow similar to her aura but darker as she desired. An amethyst for all intents and purposes but darker than her eyes, its shape was similar to a snake's head but there was no sign of it being cut that way, it just was.

The jewel was also small, really small, the size of Medusa’s little finger tip, certainly bigger than her nail. It was the kind of jewel that should belong on an earring or perhaps a ring if one wanted a gem a little too big.

Yet the power more than made up for its size for as soon as the transformation was finished all in the Vault of Prosperity felt a powerful presence flood the place for a single second before it retreated inside the newly created stone.

Medusa held it high as Divinity kept surrounding it for a few seconds as the goddess worked to stabilize its existence. ‘Too risky to let anyone feel it.’ A few seconds later the aura was under control and she was sure nobody would be able to detect its Divine origin. “That is better.”

“Is it complete, lady Medusa?” Baraqiel asked with admiration and respect. After feeling the power that emanated from the stone he knew his Quest wasn’t in vain.

However, Medusa shook her head with a smile. “Almost, the stone itself is already done but for what it can do…”

Gulping down his excitement, something the other fallen angels also struggled doing, Baraqiel asked what all of them wanted to know. “And what can it do if I may ask?”

“... I don’t know.” Everybody but the goddess fell on their backs from shock and surprise, she couldn’t help but blush and clean her throat to get rid of the embarrassment. “What I meant to say is that it isn’t complete yet. It needs the finishing touches.”

“But milady, it is your creation. Father could-”

“I am not God.” Medusa started with a glare that silenced Baraqiel. Then her gaze grew gentle as she held the jewel in her hands. “Your sacrifice wasn’t in vain, the reward is powerful. But I lack the capability of making something… complete, as I myself am not.”

Reduced, weak and missing parts of herself ever since her birth. Creating something great was proved possible, finishing it not so much.

A fact she already knew before ensuing the Quest. “If you want to know, at its most basic, this stone can give Akeno great power and energy but as it is now it is uncontrollable. Unfocused.” Was the best way she could describe. “There is a reason sacred gears have certain abilities or purposes and God didn’t just spread Divinity around for everyone; Divinity is versatile but without an Authority or Domain, people would just blow themselves up figuring out how to use it.” She raised the stone to his eyes which were glued in it. “At this point, this stone contains a strong Divinity and now it must gain direction or else my Priestess may harm herself.”

“And how do we give it direction?” For his daughter he would do anything.

Something that warmed Medusa’s heart but she shook her head. “Your job is done and I also did my part. As I said, I can’t create sacred gears. I lack the Authority and knowledge to make any of them.” Looking at her newest creation, her smile turned from gentle to confident. “But this is close enough and with my protector’s help, it will be enough.”

Half expecting to hear his brother’s name, the fallen angel was shocked about how a human could be involved. “Emiya Shirou can make sacred gears?” Baraqiel asked in disbelief.

“Not a sacred gear, a Noble Gear.” Closing her fist around the stone, Medusa felt its power ready to burst out. “It lacks a specific ability but needs a direction to give it form because it already has a purpose; to protect Akeno at any cost.” Her eyes met Baraqiel’s. “Is this reward fair?”

“More than fair but… How is it going to become a Noble Gear? It isn’t a Noble Phantasm.”

To his surprise the goddess shrugged. “It isn’t, I admit. But I can’t call it ‘sacred gear’ either.” Medusa confessed with a smile. “And unlike a sacred gear it won’t evolve with the heart of the owner, only with their will and skill. If anything you can call this a Proto Noble Phantasm. Something that can one day become a Noble Phantasm through actions of great valor. A Divine Artifact that still needs a few adjustiments before Akeno can wield it safely.”

And there was just one person Medusa trusted who could finish her creation. “And you believe that Emiya Shirou can create a… Noble Gear out of it?”

“I just don’t know if the classification would hold but I trust my protector.” The goddess was already decided but she saw the Cadre’s hesitation. “You disagree?”

Baraqiel clicked his tongue and scratched his head. “Perhaps we could ask my brother? He created many sacred gears over the years.”

“Perhaps he would be better in the technical sense. But I trust my protector and so does Akeno.” Medusa reminded him with a smile. “At least we trust him more. Let him take a crack at it, after all he has experience with my Gift.”

“A Gift he barely used or worked with…” There was no heat in his words, he just wanted to point out reality.

“True but his use of it with Bellerophon is exceptional. In a way, my Gift is still a mirror, a mirror for his soul.” Only Baraqiel truly understood the meaning of her words. “But that was for him and this is for Akeno. This reward is something else entirely…” Then Medusa stopped to admire her hand work. “Reward, yes. That is a fitting name.”

“Milady?” Baraqiel was confused.

Medusa didn’t blame him. “For all this time I have called my gift to my protector just that, Gift. It should be its True Name, the Gift of Medusa. And this,” she raised her new creation once again, “this is Reward, the Reward of Medusa given to a daughter through her father’s efforts.” Turning to the fallen angels, more specifically Baraqiel, she asked. “Any objections?”

There was a small round of applause from some fallen angels but the Cadre remained silent for a moment before shaking his head. “You are going to tell Akeno-”

“Already told her.” She smiled at his sigh. “Both of you need to know that you aren’t ready and if she came back to you because of a Reward then she wouldn’t be the Akeno I know, the one I call my High Priestess.”

Another sigh left Baraqiel’s lips before he nodded. “Then a Reward it is.” But his face remained conflicted. “However I would like to try and convince you to ask for my brother’s help in completing your work-”

“My answer won’t change.” Medusa cut him off with a wave. “My protector shall do it.”

“Is it because he is your Champion? That speaks more of his skills in combat, not as a craftsman.”

Medusa stared at the man with confusion. “You have seen some of his works and your brother considers my protector his equal.” She stared at the Lightning of God firmly but as expected of a man with his reputation, he wouldn’t break easily. “He holds my trust and thanks to my Gift is far more familiar with my power than Azazel could ever be. He is the ideal choice.”

Sound logic and coming from a goddess, not the kind many would challenge. “But why does it need to be him?”

“What is the problem with him?” Baraqiel’s question raised many doubts in Medusa and every other fallen angel. Her question in turn finally made the man squirm a little which gave the goddess her an extremely frustrating answer. “Oh my me, is this because he is a man?”

“Do you know the implications of a girl getting gifts from a boy?”

“They have known each other for a few years now, obviously they already traded gifts!” Medusa remembered everyone sharing presents at the most recent New Year party. Birthdays also counted.

But Baraqiel wasn’t having none of it. “This is different! This is a man giving a woman jewelry. That usually is a symbol of- of- of-” It was like smoke was escaping his ears. “SHE IS TOO YOUNG!!!!!!!”

Back in the studio Akeno hid behind her hands, happy that only the uninterested Liz was there to watch her shame.

Taking her hands off her ears, Medusa calmly replied. “Most modern cultures would say she is at the right age.” Quickly she placed her hands back on.

“BUT SHE IS JUST A LITTLE GIRL!!!!!!!” The other fallen angels didn’t have that much luck and some of them fell on their backs with the potent scream. “She never saw a star be born!! Or the construction of a civilization!! Or-or-”

“I am pretty sure those things take a few centuries to actually happen and modern people would call either of them ‘too much’.” Before Baraqiel could shout something else, Medusa stepped on his foot. It didn’t harm the man, reduced as she was there was no contest, but it got his attention. “Also, if you don’t want her to be legitimately upset with you it would be best to let this go.”

The man wanted to protest, to keep saying his daughter wasn’t ready for a relationship, to protect her from all the evils a broken heart can inflict. From anything really if Baraqiel had his way.

But the goddess was right and so the man did the only thing he could; he prepared his best scowl and declared. “If he wants to really court my daughter then he best get ready for a fight.”

While the fallen angels began to fear for Shirou’s security, Medusa just rolled her eyes. ‘He acts like Akeno couldn’t just walk there and ask him and he wouldn’t cave in a fraction of a second.’ Still it was better this way so the goddess would let things be and take the most mature decision she could under those circumstances.. “Not my problem.”

Dismissing things, Medusa would let father and daughter settle things on their own when they were ready.

…..

Hours later Shirou was opening his eyes slowly, extremely slowly as the first thing he noticed was how lethargic and heavy his body felt. Before opening his eyes he tried to move his arms only to notice they were stuck in a hard surface of some sort and that he was missing his shirt.

It was upon noticing his state of dress that the Mage realized he was sitting in a chair and finally managed to open his eyes and check his surroundings. Only to realize that he could see almost nothing as the place was completely dark, so dark in fact that for a moment Shirou feared he was blind.

Not allowing himself to panic, the redhead tried to move his arms again, finding the former stuck into the chair by manacles that kept his fingers free but didn’t allow his hands to touch anything other than his chair.

Next was checking his legs and the magus quickly determined that while he was using pants he was missing his shoes and that his feet were just as stuck as his hands.

Taking a deep breath Shirou tried to use Structural Analysis to look further in his condition only to note that his circuits failed in activating. ‘Something is blocking my mana.’ If he didn’t know something was wrong before, that was the worst kind of redflag. ‘Looks like I was captured by someone, but how?’

He tried to mess with the chair, to pull, push, anything that would make it move or even make it fall. Nothing worked which led him to believe that the thing was bolted to ground, making his concerns grow. Once more he tried to channel his mana only to fail miserably as he felt nothing.

Remembering his father’s lessons, Shirou took another deep breath. ‘Something is blocking my mana which means this is some sort of set up. I was targeted by someone…’ Unfortunately the list wasn’t as small as Shirou wanted it to be. He began to try and scratch the chair and managed to figure out it wasn’t made out of wood or metal. ‘This material is odd, too smooth but my fingernail isn't getting stuck? Some sort of special chair?’

Time ticked while he tried to break free and part of him expected someone to show up after he began to struggle or test his seat’s resistance. Nobody appeared which had him questioning his situation again.

‘Am I being watched or not?’ Shirou needed to determine it quickly to evaluate his odds of escaping. ‘I have been moving for a while and am still breathing so it makes sense someone should be keeping an eye on me.’

Yet nothing happened, he was just there, stuck in a chair in the dark without being able to move his hands or legs while his mana was completely absent. And since nobody was showing up to explain anything, Shirou began to work with his nails to weaken the chair as his mind tried to piece together how he ended up in such a mess.

He remembered fixing himself up to visit Lakmia in the Vault, Xenovia helped him pick a dark button up blue shirt with a jacket and black pants so he could look nice while also letting out a certain air of aloof professionalism.

After spending an hour trying to tame his hair his knight escorted him to the teleportation room where a magic circle would take him to the Gremory Village and from there it would be a short walk towards the Matron’s residence.

Remembering arriving at the place, Shirou quickly dismissed being kidnapped on the way. He remembered exiting the building and looking towards Gremory Castle, honestly debating ditching the meeting and going to visit Rias. Only his desire to not get in the way of her training stopped him.

‘After that… After that I went straight to her villa, trying not to look at the castle.’ The redhead was starting to get annoyed at his own memory and tried to contact the resident of his soul. ‘Bellerophon?’

Feeling the echo of a response the redhead was relieved that despite his weakened state he would still contact the legendary mount. The pegasus sent him a wave of confusion that had him worried for a moment but the magus suspected that the abstinence of his mana was thinning their connection.

Still his friend was here and perhaps could help. ‘Can you try to give me some of your power? Something happened and we are quite stuck.’ For a second Shirou felt Divinity running though his body before it disappeared, much to the pegasus’ confusion. The Mage understood immediately. ‘I don’t have any mana for you to use.’

Shaking his head the magus began to talk with Bellerophon as his mind fought against the fog surrounding his memory.

Arriving at the villa, Shirou remembered being greeted by a devil smaller than he was but with a smile that appeared to be a little forced. Either way the magus suspected he was older than he looked but from the way he was acting the redhead felt like he was the one hundreds of years old.

Regardless it was just an impression easily dismissed. Working at the Vault the Mage grew used to being regarded as the most important person in the room even if he never felt as such.

However Shirou remembered taking note of how nervous that devil and a few others looked while the majority of the people in the room looked happy to see him. All were men and none of them were weak. It was in their posture, their size and presence, just walking inside the villa Shirou felt like he was surrounded by tigers.

None of them had much mana to speak of, the Mage was pretty sure his reserves were actually bigger than the majority, but their behavior wasn’t truly akin to servants and butlers but to soldiers.

The situation wasn’t helped by the fact that, much like the first ones he saw carrying Lakmia when he first arrived in the Underworld, every single one of them was taller than him by a couple heads besides the door man who quickly disappeared somewhere when he wasn’t looking.

Most of it was pure muscle and even if their uniform fit all of them without fail, clearly some didn’t like the suits like they didn’t belong in them.

‘Yes’, Shirou remembered thinking to himself, ‘these guys aren’t fit for suits or to wait hand and foot for someone. The place of these men is in battle.’ None was armed but with magic circles they could be ready to fight in a heartbeat. ‘Huh? Is that guy afraid of me?’

It was the impression he got when the older devils looked at him nervously before turning his head and avoiding looking at Shirou completely. That would be suspicious and concerning by itself but Shirou was trying to fight his biases so he just accompanied one of the butlers who escorted him deeper inside the villa.

While not as big as Gremory Castle, Lakmia’s home wasn’t frugal by any means. Many pieces of art like portraits and statues decorated the place. He didn’t recognize any of the words but noted that the place looked to be illuminated by certain stones spread around the walls, giving the manor an eerie glow.

It was bright enough that Shirou could have taken off his glasses but he didn’t want to look too comfortable considering what Lakmia was planning. He was dense but not dumb and while he had troubles understanding and noticing people’s emotions, the Matron’s were bare for him to see.

As bare as her back when he saw her sitting on a long couch with her legs extended. She stood up with a smile and a swing of her hips, her low cut wine colored dress just reminded him how dangerous that woman was.

“Welcome, Mage of Swords. For a while I feared you would be too busy for our tea.” Her voice was confident, her poise was elegant. Her dress also highlighted her curves perfectly but none of that phased him. “Please, please, sit down. Do you want to eat something this time? Some fruit, meat, perhaps me?”

With a little chuckle, Shirou couldn't help but ask. “Laying a little tick, don’t you think?”

“As a woman of business, I like to get straight to the point. Don’t worry, you can refuse and we can part as friends-” She said something else but his memory failed him a little. It was something a little embarrassing but not mean spirited. “If you want to try, of course.”

“Sorry but I will keep my reply as a ‘no’.” A small twitch of her eyebrow showed she was frustrated but it was almost microscopic and Shirou only caught on because of his amazing sight.

It lasted for less than a second and her smile remained honest. “Is it something I am lacking?”

Sitting down on the couch, Shirou tried to keep the conversation lighthearted as a butler came with cups and tea. “Don’t you think I am the one lacking?” He commented before taking a seat and noticing it was a blend he had never tasted before. And quite delicious. “What is this?”

“A rare herb from the Underworld. Our ecosystem obviously grants us a great variety of them that you can’t find anywhere else. This one is called Lilith’s Kiss.” Returning to her couch but in a more conservative position, she hummed, savoring the tea. “It used to grow around where it is now our capital and as you can tell, it is a delicacy.” By her giggle she found his expression amusing. “You said you wanted tea and I went all out for some of the best in the Underworld.”

“Thank you but that wasn’t really necessary.” It made him feel bad about rejecting her.

The woman just smiled and nodded. “Of course it was, you are the Mage of Swords, someone extremely important for the Gremory. And you haven’t answered my question.”

Shaking his head, Shirou skipped most of the conversation as he tried to dance around the fact that while Lakmia was beautiful she didn’t hold his trust and some of her actions made him doubt her character.

And considering he was stuck in a chair after having tea with her, it seemed she was actually worse than he thought. ‘Never jump to conclusions.’ Shirou cautioned himself, feeling his fingers start to hurt before stopping and touching the chair’s arm. He frowned at the lack of damage. ‘This is bad.’

Another deep breath later the magus tried to feel his Ki only to fail as his body felt weaker than if he was just out of mana. To distract himself and find his center, he went memory diving again.

“Besides, your type seems to be more… on the bigger side…” Shirou tried to point out as politely as possible.

“My, my, what a naughty boy. Do you think I sleep with all of my men?” The way she said ‘my men’ was far more provoking than the rest of the teasing. “Well, you can rest easy knowing that I only lay with warriors and while many here own the title proudly, few are truly great.”

“Right, sorry.” He found himself surprised how easily he accepted that, suspecting that his own situation desensitized him from the idea of harems.

“It is fine. Don’t think too much about it.” But the way she moved her legs and her arm to support her face and generous bust, she wanted him to think about it. However he wasn’t as affected as he should one way or another. “You don’t need to think about it, friends can have fun, right?”

“To me it shouldn’t be that simple or easier.” Shirou honestly, avoiding her personality. “It should have meaning, the act itself is about people giving each other something…  personal with absolute trust.”

With a hand on her mouth, obviously she was holding back her laugh. “Such a human way to see things.”

Except it wasn’t just human by her definition as he knew Rias shared his point of view. To them sex wasn’t just a pleasurable activity but something to be done only with absolute trust and certainty.

Emotions should be real and not something born out of pure pressure or just curiosity.

Shaking his head, Shirou tried to focus back in the pass but he was almost sure Lakmia was the one who imprisoned him. He needed to get to the important parts of his memory but the fog in his mind was making him focus on the wrong things. That and the exhaustion that he couldn’t explain but suspect it was a drug of some kind.

After a few more minutes of small talk, which wasn’t all that unpleasant from what he could recall, Shirou noticed Lakmia’s look at the sword in his hand and smiled before presenting it to her.

Giddy with excitement the redhead woman stood up, met him in the middle and drew the weapon swiftly, her eyes growing with fascination as the multiple blades revealed themselves.

However the surprise didn’t last long and Shirou was impressed how she managed to break down the flower sword’s characteristics and how it could work best with her fighting style.

Practicing a few stabs and slashes, Lakmia ordered her subordinates to bring some targets, jars and vases made on the cheap and the kind that shouldn’t be in a manor as her own.

Her moves were as close to perfect as they could be if the sword was a normal saber or rapier, her stabs were precise and always hitting the center of the jars like if she was aiming for invisible bullseyes.

Still the flower sword wasn’t any of those weapons and in return for six stabs at the same time there was little slashing power as a blade could easily get in the way of another. Sure a skilled fighter could compensate but the goal of the weapon was to penetrate and then exit as violently as possible for maximum damage.

It was all built for Lakmia’s fighting style so obviously she had no complaints. “It is perfect.” She purred while caressing the blades. “I can even channel my mana rather easily despite how many blades it has. Is that because of your metal?”

“Got it in one.”

“And there is only one weapon of its kind in existence?” He nodded, smiling at her excitement. “Such a great prize, and from the Mage of Swords himself, I can’t thank you enough.”

“No need. I, or better yet my knight, promised a service.”

“Oh, please, don’t be like that. We both know you could have rejected the request. Could even reject coming to have tea with me today.” Lakmia’s smile showed she knew more than was letting on. The magus avoided saying anything, even when she approached. “But with such talent and supreme skill to make an impossible weapon.” Her free arm held him close to her breasts but he remained impassive, staring at her eyes. “Can’t I convince you to perhaps part with a few more works? Just to make sure the Gremory is going to be ready for what is to come?”

“And what is to come?”

“Isn’t it obvious? A war.” Lakmia stepped away, all her flirty demeanor gone. “Sirzechs is a great leader, a true Gremory and probably the greatest of us to ever be born.” When she turned, her eyes held a haunting quality the magus remembered made him cautious. “However he isn’t Lucifer.”

“You think some of the Pillars-”

“Some of the Pillars, the remaining descendants, the other Factions and the factions inside the Underworld. Gremory still has too many enemies and we cannot back down from this fight. Now that Sirzechs is the new Lucifer, if he falls, we fall, the Gremory as I whole. And I refuse to allow that to happen.”

Her words were passionate and Shirou remained there, stunned. There was logic in her thoughts and fears and the implication of what she wanted was obvious.

She still voiced her desire. “To protect the Gremory, I ask you to reconsider, Emiya Shirou. Please, keep making swords for our armies.” It was an honest request, born from the heart. “If you do so, I swear on my honor to make sure none of your weapons fall in the wrong hands again and to give you anything, anything, you desire if it's within my power.”

Shirou felt bad for what he said after, more for the plea than for the offer. “I can’t. Not after what happened. The thought of my creations harming innocents-”

“Just a few bad apples-”

“And making enough for an army doesn’t mean finding more bad apples?” He cut her off with a glare before calming himself down and staring to the side. “How many ‘bad apples’ are we going to find then? My weapons aren’t like normal weapons and I can’t just ignore the damage they can cause.”

Chuckling, Lakmia replied with clear disappointment. “You dream of an ideal world and in that Gremory has no enemies. But this is reality.” Her words carried a resolve stronger than before. Shirou could feel it even if he was avoiding looking at her. “And to defeat them, we need more. Sirzechs and the other Maou can’t be everywhere all at once, it was exactly that which defeated the Old Satan Faction; the lack of strong able fighters. Your swords can-”

“But the Old Satan Faction was defeated and the Underworld is more prosperous than before.” Shirou cut her again, turning to look right into her eyes. He saw frustration and anger, but wasn’t going to back down. “Besides, you don’t need my weapons to grow strong and, if it comes to it, I won’t hesitate to fight as well to protect the peace the Three Factions are building.”

“You think you are going to live long enough to see it? You are just human, in a century or so you are going to be in the dirt and instead of having a legacy that can help us, your name will mean less than nothing.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I will live long enough to leave a lasting peace behind me. Or maybe you don’t need me or weapons but to have faith in the leader you praised so much before.” It was the first time Lakmia hesitated in their conversation and Shirou kept pressing. “Sirzechs is a good man and from what I have seen, a great leader. He was even willing to sacrifice his sister’s happiness for the sake of peace.” A decision the man himself regretted and Shirou hated but as a leader that was the correct one. “He loves Rias as much as his own child and was willing to give her up. Saying he isn’t going to do everything in his power for peace is a lie.”

The woman said nothing, recovered her balance and nodded. “True but there are other factors-”

“But my swords are not your only solution. Weapons are only as good as their owners and arming a bunch of bystanders will solve nothing depending who decides to start something.” Shirou knew he was right, devils could fight without his weapons just fine. They were just a shortcut for the weak or a complement for those already strong, nothing more in the Mage’s opinion. “I will only entrust them to the people I trust. Nobody else.”

He had been trying to say then and there that he was placing his trust in her too but the look in her eyes, a look filled with disgust and resignation, made him reconsider for a second. For the life of him Shirou couldn't understand how he missed that look even if the memory of it was pretty clear in highsight.

‘Something was definitely wrong by then…’ Looking at his hand he could see nothing but feel the blood as his attempts of freeing himself failed. ‘Tch, this isn’t a normal chair. What I wouldn’t give for some light.’ While he worked, his mind couldn't help but go back to the puzzle of his memories.

Perhaps he missed the look because it lasted less than a moment, maybe a trick of the light or he was seeing ghosts after remembering his failure to protect his designs. Looking at that point of view the insistent Lakmia was certainly seen in a more negative connotation.

However, like he remembered, it lasted little before the woman smiled sincerely. “Maybe you are right and I am just overthinking things.” When she placed her new sword on a small table and grabbed Shirou’s arm, there was no flirting or desire in her moves, just confidence. “I promised a tour of my collection, didn’t I?”

Calling it a collection was underselling in Shirou’s opinion, thousands of swords were lined up on walls and several open closets or in cases forming dozens of hallways inside the biggest room in the whole villa.

It was like he had stepped out of the manor, even if he didn’t as the Mage was sure they had walked through a couple of hallways, and arrived in a hidden armory below the surface or something of the type.

The place was so big that it was at least two or three kilometers in length with a few floors from the ground to the roof. He remembered joking about how cleaning it all must be a huge labor but Lakmia had just brushed it off.

“Now you know why I have so many employees.”

She took her time explaining most of the weapons in the place, all swords and several of the same kind at least on the surface. The Matron of Gremory’s collection was the only thing the Mage could remember perfectly and all of them were forged by different people throughout the years.

However that didn’t explain its size and he asked as much so Lakmia took her time explaining that whenever one of her subordinates died she would add their weapon, if a sword, to her collection.

That prompted Shirou to pay even more attention to the swords and he easily realized that the majority of them were used in several combats with their owners perishing for or by Lakmia’s hand and she quickly amended the other reason for the collection’s size was because she also took the weapons of anyone she personally killed.

During the explanation they kept walking around the hallways as the Matron pointed to a sword or another, telling him how she acquired them either by blood or by coin.

There was no real organization on the place even if the blades were well taken care of, it seemed that Lakmia had chosen to place them all in the order they were acquired and so it wasn’t uncommon for him to notice several of the same weapon spread around the gigantic room.

Most of them were swords with two edges commonly associated with knights, weapons that most devils used in the Underworld Civil War, be them on either side of the conflict. That was where the bulk of the collection came from but it wasn’t just that as there were several types of swords from all over the world and History.

“Perhaps you have a Noble Phantasm around here.” He remembered joking and earning a legitimate laugh from the woman.

“Besides the smiths who forged them and the men who died with them, nobody else held those swords. So it is impossible for them to be Noble Phantasms.”

She still took her time to show them all, each with a story associated with it. Shirou could see most of them playing in his soul.

Besides being part of her collection, those swords had nothing really special, unfortunately. Lakmia was right that they were mostly mass produced for war and those made after just weren’t good enough to be anything but what they were. All of them were decent swords, but none of them held real power and even Shirou’s most basic work easily surpassed most of them.

Not that he was going to mention that and after their previous intense disagreement Emiya was willing to let the woman talk and guide him wherever she wanted for a while.

Unfortunately for him time escaped his grasp for some reason, perhaps because of the magic stone illuminating the place or the lack of sun, artificial or not, that stopped him from noticing how many hours passed.

He only was able to tell when Lakmia announced it was time for dinner and had a small meal served for them.

Shirou tried to refuse, tried to say he needed to get back while remaining polite but the woman refused to take a ‘no’ for an answer. “Consider it the second part of the tea.” And tea was served so it wasn’t like she was wrong.

Gritting his teeth the redhead barely remembered taking a few bites and drinking the tea before his memory brought him back to his current predicament. So by taking all the evidence in, there was no denying anymore that the Matron was responsible for his imprisonment.

Add the fact that he found no success using his mana, damaging the chair or even moving it, Shirou was truly with too few cards to play other than call his captor. “Lakmia! Show yourself!!”

For a minute or so he remained there, sitting in the dark and staring straight ahead where he suspected there was a door. He was proved right when it slowly opened, a huge heavy one by the sound of it.

Darkness ruled the room until Lakmia revealed herself with a magic circle illuminating the room with a dark red eerie glow. “You woke up… faster than you should.” She sounded confused.

For a few moments the sudden light had forced Shirou to flinch and his eyes couldn't help but shed a tear. It disappeared as he looked at Lakmia's familiar face he grew familiar with earlier on the day.

She also had changed clothes and now was sporting a dress shirt of a sort that reached her tights and trousers for easy movement. Her hair was still in an elaborate hairstyle but her eyes carried no emotion the magus had seen on her before. On the contrary, they looked more apathetic if slightly frustrated, almost as if she couldn’t hold that specific emotion back.

Not that Shirou cared, his mind was completely in his current predicament. “You drugged the food.”

Shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal the Matron replied. “The food, the tea, the second tea. Funny thing about Lilith’s Kiss is that it can make people more susceptible to suggestion while messing with their attention span.” That explained the fog in his memories but that wasn’t all. “Then again, you are a Mage. Expecting you to resist the many herbs on the food and tea should have been expected. I underestimated you.”

“And you took the antidote.”

“Just for the tea. A great thing about having you here was that I had my subordinates lace your cup and plate while leaving my own alone.”

With a small burst of anger Shirou tried to get free but could only glare once his sight was used to the lack of light. “What is your goal?”

“Straight to business then? Excellent.” Lakmia approached and tried to caress his face only for Shirou to move and try to bite her fingers. She quickly stepped back with a laugh, his action too slow. “Oh my, and here I thought we could have a reasonable conversation.”

“You drug me, tie me in a chair and steal all of my mana. Reason was never an option.” The Mage started with a confident smile and a sharp look that could put most people on edge. The Matron wasn’t one of them. “You won’t get away with this.”

“I think I will. One way or another.”

“People are going to come looking for me.”

Lakmia’s hand landed on his shoulder, far enough he couldn’t get to it. “Hmm~ indeed, indeed. But, I think a young man like you,” she caressed it lovingly, “can take his time in the manor of a lady such as myself, don’t you think.”

The prisoner wanted to scoff but instead just glared. “And you are planning to do what with however much time you have left.” Shirou made sure to look her in the eye as she snapped her fingers and the magic circle moved to the ceiling. Soon it began to grow brighter, allowing the magus to look around and see several torture instruments. “Is this a threat?”

“Fufufufu. Not a smidge of fear. Impressive but naive.” She waved to the several blades, whips, chains and other instruments that could break bones and tear flesh while keeping the prisoner barely alive. “But no, these are for the less important guests and I can’t damage you too much. It would be detrimental.” The Matron shrugged again and moved around until she was out of Shioru’s sight. “Not when recently I gained a new Piece, someone capable of torturing in a way that won’t leave any scars and is undetectable.” Her arms around his neck, she began to play with his naked chest. “But of course, we don’t need to do that if you give me what I want.”

“My swords…” An easy conclusion to make.

However he wasn’t entirely correct. “Yes but unfortunately we are way past just swords.” Separating from him, Shirou’s eyes found her swiftly as she stalked like a cat watching a canary. “With Rias’ triumph over Riser, the Gremory lost an ally in the Phenex. Now, that isn’t a bad thing, that brat proved himself to be unsuited to ever be the consort of the Gremory Head. However, her actions also tied us to you and your inventions.” Her pause came with a side glance as she placed her hands behind her back, visible to him. “That and many of your swords proved to be excellent weapons that even the weakest devil could use to rise a little in life. And those were the common ones too… We need them just in case of a war.”

“You are repeating yourself and my answer is the same.” Remaining steady, Shirou’s glare grew darker. “And that wasn’t what we were talking about.”

Snapping her fingers again, a small magic circle appeared in her hand. “But that is the reason why I wanted to use this.” A Knight Piece dropped in her hand. “Your compliance isn’t the only factor anymore, your eternal servitude, on the other hand...”

Shirou revealed a smirk. “Why then haven’t you Reincarnated me already? Can’t?”

“Don’t play coy, Mage. You know I already failed.” Just after Shirou passed out thanks to the laced food, Lakmia moved to try and Reincarnated him with any of the Pieces she had.

First she tried a Pawn but it was almost expected that it would fail, the man was a Mage after all and that was a class of magicians acknowledged by their deeds and power as much as their magic.

But she had just used three of her Pieces since she acquired them; a Rook, a Bishop and her Queen. The Matron had plenty of options to spare, including using all of her Pawn Pieces in one go to an almost guaranteed Reincarnation even if she already had a Queen.

Only for Shirou to not Reincarnate at all.

Lakmia had tried every combination and even thought about killing her Queen but brushed the idea away remembering that she wasn’t dealing with a normal person but a Mage. Someone with tricks and secrets that managed to bring down the White Dragon Emperor, a confirmed descendant of Lucifer.

She may not know all the details but with leaders of the Three Factions as witnesses, there was no shadow of a doubt Emiya Shirou won that fight.

Yet Lakmia could only accept it was through some sort of trick. “Tell me how you are doing it.” She made it sound like it wasn’t a demand. “Wouldn't it be better to live forever as a devil, an Apex Predator, than just as a simple human?” Moving her knight Piece in her hand, the woman made sure to lean forward to tempt him some more. “And once you are a devil, with your abilities, you can live like a King. I will of course make sure you have whatever you desire, be it for your research or just for your heart.” It was the magus' turn to look apathetic, something that the Matron didn’t expect. “Come now, isn’t all magi’s goal to reach the Root or whatever it was called? Instead of leaving for some descendant to work towards it, you will have all the time in the world to get there by yourself-”

“Rias is going to be so mad at you~” Shirou couldn’t help himself, he was still smirking but his tone was playful and even mocking. “Oh, she is going to rip you apart.”

“Feh, you are overestimating your value, Mage. While it is true that us, Gremory, value our followers, we value family even more.”

“But how do you value your love?” The question caught the Matron by surprise, something Shirou expected. Letting out a sigh, he extended an olive branch. “Look, just let me go and we can forget this whole thing. Clearly you care about the Gremory but-”

“Hahahahahaha!!! Hohohahahahoahoha!!!” Lakmia bursted out laughing for a full minute before controlling her nerves. “You really overvalue yourself, Mage. A devil loving a human like that? As if.”

“Now, listen-”

“No, you listen.” Weakened as he was, Shirou couldn’t fight back when Lakmia threw her substantial power on his head. The Mage struggled to keep his head high but it felt like she was crushing his bones. “Here is an offer for you to evolve, to become greater than a simple human. Take it and maybe you will earn a place by her side forever as something more than a toy.” The power relented and Emiya took large gulps of air as the Matron stopped by his side, Evil Piece in his line of sight. “Power eternal, most humans can’t come close to that even with Evil Pieces. Accept it and join us.” She smiled gently again. “Rias is missing a Knight still, you could become her Knight if that is what you want.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, Shirou processed everything she said before going back to glare at her again. “Thank you.” He said confidently in a tone that shocked the woman. “By the way you act I am sure as hell that you won’t keep your word.” Lakmia stared at him for a few seconds before releasing a sigh and stepping back completely. “So I think I will be waiting for my rescue. Between being the Gremory Magician, Azazel’s lab partner and the Son of the Magus Killer, I bet that it won’t be long before someone comes knocking. Question is; who is going to get you first?”

“Naive.” Lakmia stated coldly, Evil Piece returning to her magic circle.

“Right back at you. Did you really think for a second any of that was going to work?” Shirou sounded more confident than he felt at the Matron’s attitude. She was too calm which made him think she had more cards on her sleeve.

She didn’t disappoint. “And you think you are going to even remember me by the time they find you?” Lakmia's smile returned, a cruel one this time. “You are out of mana and your mind is already weakened. Getting your trick out of you or, in the worst case scenario, altering your memories isn’t far from the realm of possibility.”

“As weak as I may be, you are underestimating me far too much.” Shirou was confident in his defenses, his experiences. His mind had been burned by a fire that consumed all of himself. He didn’t fear it happening a second time. “Besides, this chair may be siphoning my mana but I am still breathing and the air around here is full of it.”

“True, true. The ice of Cocytus you are sitting on always leaves its victim with enough so the person can stay awake to feel hell.” At the magus’ eyes growing wide, Lakmia’s smile grew in turn. “Ah, you didn’t notice.” The magic circle above them grew brighter and Shirou looked down to see that indeed he was sitting on a chair of dry ice with his wrists and legs bound by it. “My, my. The herbs really left you a little out of it. That or the cold is doing you in. Don’t worry about dying to it by the way, nor escaping.” Touching a section of the chair close to his head with her finger and it broke apart easily. “Cocytus’ ice exists to preserve those stuck on it, even if it is just your wrists. Anyone can break it from outside but inside it, your power turns against you.”

“Someone will find me.”

“Your faith is… correct for all intents and purposes. Sure I can convince Rias that your Reincarnation is for the best but she will be upset if I am found with you in my basement after you disappeared for a couple of days.”

‘More than upset, no doubt.’ However Shirou didn’t voice his thoughts, knowing the woman before him wouldn't believe them. “If you know about this, what are you planning?”

“Oh, torture you until you tell me what I need to know.” Lakmia spoke of it as if it was about the weather. “Or erase any knowledge of my participation, throw you to an already prepared group that won’t know they are scapegoats and pretend to find where you are after they have a few days to try and force you to talk by more physical means.” There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that she wasn’t bluffing. Lakmia fully intended to torture him and, if that failed, throw him to the wolves only to pretend saving him later. “Like I said, you won’t remember being here; thanks to Lilith’s Kiss and my new Piece’s magic, you are going to think you left this place very satisfied and was captured going back to the Vault. Such a tragedy.”

“That won’t work.” Shirou said with conviction.

Lakmia didn’t care. “Why not? You are just human after all, my race has been manipulating you all for milenia… Who knows, maybe we can revisit this again after a couple of months? When Rias lowers her guard? You certainly will be more cooperative the second time.”

Shirou glared at her with as much hatred as he could muster before noticing something he hadn’t before. “My necklace.”

“Oh, you mean this?” The Gift of Medusa was resting on Lakmia’s neck and the Mage’s hate became very real. “A gift from a god, such a precious thing. Pity you lost it when you were kidnapped. Or, you can accept my offer and I will return it.” Shirou bit his lip in anger hard enough to draw blood. “No? Your loss. If this is how you defeated the White Dragon Emperor then your value just shrunk while my power grew.”

Finally Shirou snapped. “People will notice! They will know you stole it from me!”

“And who is going to complain? A destitute goddess? An insane Mage that was caught and tortured?” She asked rhetorically and even if Shirou knew she was wrong, dread filled his being. “No one that matters will care anyway. The main tenets of being a devil are to protect your Clan and grow your power. I outsmarted you so your loss is my gain.” Lakmia leaned forward again, looking him in the eye. “Unless you are going to accept my offer. A Geass can be written then to make sure you won’t open your mouth, of course.”

“I won’t forget this.” Shirou said back with disdain. “Not a single thing. You better kill me now or else I will get my Gift back and expose you for who you are.”

With those words Lakmia knew negotiations had failed. “Very well. Since you didn’t take the ‘carrot’, time for the ‘stick’.” Someone else entered the room and thanks to the light Shirou saw exactly who he was. And he was pretty sure that man was supposed to be dead. “Oh, you know his face? Did your friend Nero tell you about him?”

“Macabro…” Shirou said the name carefully, studying the criminal who should have been put to death. Just by looking at that man in the eyes the magus knew something was terribly wrong. ‘It is like his insanity is completely gone and left nothing behind.’

Dressed in a different suit than the last time Shirou saw him, Macabro had small burn scars in his face and just by looking to the sides, despite the poor light, it was clear he had found some metal prosthetics to replace his hands.

Superficially the man looked fine but compared to before there was no malice, hatred or insanity on his gaze. It wasn’t like Lakmia’s or some people when they manage to perfect poker faces either, his expression was truly empty.

His eyes were empty, completely utterly empty, like his eyeballs were replaced by glass or marble that perfectly matched the previous pair but had no sign of life in them.

“Hmm, your reaction is odd.” Lakmia snapped him out of his thoughts as she in turn studied him. “What did your bounty hunter friend tell you about my new Bishop? Something nice?” She turned to Macabro, his suit looking less like one belonging to a businessman but from a butler. “Hey, Macabro, look at him. This is Emiya Shirou, the Mage of Swords. You are familiar with his work, right?” It was an order even if poorly worded one and the man’s gaze finally focused on Shirou.

For the first time since he saw Macabro again there was some life behind those eyes, a fire had been lit even if just for a second before it was put down again by whatever happened to him.

Remembering his previous disguise, Shirou minded his words. “Wasn’t him the kind who would enjoy watching someone in my situation?”

“Yes, he was. But we… adjusted his attitude a little, didn’t we?” Lakmia grabbed Macabro’s chin but the man barely reacted, choosing to stare at Shirou instead. “I couldn’t just let him die, you know? He had plenty of contacts, names and addresses that would ruin the business if he took those to the grave.”

The magus easily realized the implications of her words. “You- you were involved in the selling of my swords!”

A chuckle escaped her lips as she let Macabro go. “Of course. Didn’t Sairaorg explained that as the Matron of Runeas, I ran its Underworld?” She chuckled again, shaking her head in disbelief. “What sort of fool wouldn’t use that opportunity to arm her population properly? I just told you I was getting ready for a war.”

Gritting his teeth, Shirou couldn't disagree. “That was why you had so many weapons in the Arena, you made sure your men had the best ones as well.”

“Look at that, the human can think.”

But Shirou wasn’t done. “I bet you hated when Nero showed up with Sairaorg, hiding that from a Heir would be too much even from you since that was truly illegal.” His eyes returned to Macabro. “And he crossed the line.”

“Right again.” The amusement vanished and Lakmia glared. “Had to waste a Bishop Piece and promise to keep an eye on this idiot so he was spared. Easy with my influence, except that he isn’t my type.” She hit his back and Macabro fell to his knees. He was still glaring at Shirou. “Weakling without any combat potential. Well, can’t call him completely useless either, his hypnosis is top notch and he is good at diving into memories. He tried to get yours before but… what did you say again, Macabro? That since he was unconscious, reading his mind was harder?”

His voice was as empty as his eyes. “When someone is unconscious or asleep, their mind becomes like a labyrinth of chaos that I can’t influence. I can give them nightmares but would not be able to control them-”

“That is enough.” Macabro shut up immediately and dread was starting to fill Shirou’s heart as he recognized the signs. Lakmia didn’t notice how stiff the Mage became. “Dreams are territories of the gods and the people who have them. Dear Macabro here is good but not godlike. Not like you and swords at least.” But now he was awake and she was confident her Bishop would succeed.

That was clear to Shirou but despite his worries he banished those thoughts aside and focused on something far more concerning. “You have a King Piece.” His answer came at the shocked look on Lakmia’s face just before she grabbed his forehead and forced her to look in her eyes.

“How do you know that?!” There was panic there but Shirou took no satisfaction from it.

For if there was one, there could be more. “How did you get one?”

“I think you forgot who is in control here…” Her hand began to close on his skull but the magus barely reacted. Pain was an old friend, after all. “It may be risky damaging you and losing some of your precious swords but if the secrets of the Underworld are in the hand of some Mage, perhaps killing you is a good idea.”

“Ajuka gave the information to Azazel.” Immediately her grip grew slack even if she remained frustrated. “I know how the King Piece works, how not only it gives the owner more power but absolute control over their Pieces.” His eyes grew full of pity as Shirou ignored the woman and looked at Macabro still on the floor. “You can order him to do anything and he will be forced to do it unless his will is strong enough to fight back.” Not as easily as he made sound and the man obviously wasn’t. “‘Adjusting his attitude’, you stole his emotions, his core, his being. Perhaps even damaged his soul…”

“Pitying him now? After your bounty hunter friend cut his hands and left him for death?” If anything the Matron was amused.

However the retort confused her. “He should have killed Macabro. Leaving this alone, refusing to keep looking, that was my mistake.” He didn’t give her time to dwell on his own words, looking right back at her with anger. “You were never returning me to Rias, you just wanted to make me your slave the first chance you got.”

“Tch, I wanted you to make swords for the Gremory. Your morals are on the way.” Animosity filled her tone but it wasn’t just with him. “And why in tarnation did Ajuka give Azazel that sort of information? Did he truly choose to ignore the risks?”

Shirou spoke from the heart. “A gesture of good faith. Unlike you, they truly believe peace can work.” At her incredulous look, he sighed. “King Pieces were a mistake, as you just proved it. But their existence alone isn’t the problem, their use is.” His eyes focused on Macabro who was looking right back at him. “If the other Pantheons know devils are messing with Free Will, even if it is possible to fight back, they are going to unite and destroy the Underworld. By using a King Piece, you are putting the Gremory in more risk-”

“Silence!!” Lakmia held her hand close to Shirou’s face and while the magus stopped talking he otherwise didn’t react. His fellow redhead glared at him with a passion which was missing throughout the whole day. “You think I don’t know that? Then you are a fool. King Pieces shouldn't be used for everyone and certainly not by the masses, just to control certain problematic but useful individuals…”

“You realize now your plan is going to fail, right? If Azazel notices anything wrong with my behavior, he will know something is wrong.” Shirou stated confidently, knowing she couldn’t kill him either or risk a deep investigation which would ruin her even if Rias didn’t care for him.

Eliminating emotions from the equation, pride and honor would demand that the Gremory responded with force, even against one of their members. Already Shirou could feel himself more confident and secure despite his situation since there was absolutely no way the Matron could really kill or Reincarnate him.

Fact was that Lakmia’s plans were ruined before they even began. “Macabro!!!” Fury almost blinded her but she wasn’t the Matron for nothing. “Weaken his mind and take away his memories. Later in the week we will dump him somewhere easy to find.”

That didn’t mean he was safe and the outcome was far from what Shirou was expecting. “You could just give me my necklace and let me go with a Geass.”

“Fool. Do you think I will trust a magician to keep his word?” Then she raised the Gift with a smile. “Besides, if you are missing this, I can learn how to use it properly. The Gremory will benefit from you, one way or another.” She began to leave the room as Shirou glared at her back. “Who knows, maybe I do Reincarnate you anyway. Just will have to mess with your memory just right and you will think it was a request from your part.”

The security the Mage felt was suddenly missing but there was no dread, only rage.

“I won’t forget this.” She ignored his words but the Mage didn’t care. “I will escape, get my jewel back and kill you if I have too. Getting that King Piece will certainly guarantee a fate worse than death.”

Stopping at the doorway, Lakmia turned with a cruel smile. “Do you think I am the only one?” His eyes grew wide at the implications. “Ajuka should have taken better care of his toys. See you in a couple of days, Mage of Swords.” With that she departed and the magic circle illuminating the room was extinguished.

‘I need to get out.’ Yet Shirou didn’t fight with the chair made with ice from the deepest prisons of Hades. “Are you still there, Macabro?”

“Yes, I am, Nero.”

Uncertain if the Bishop was still on the ground or on his feet, Shirou closed his eyes and sighed. “I knew you recognized me.”

“It is hard to forget the man who destroyed my hands.”

“Why didn’t you tell your boss?”

“Because she didn’t ask….”

Silence reigned in the darkness as the information sunk in for the now lone redhead in the room. “Would you be interested in making a deal?” When Shirou got no response he continued. “If you help me escape, I will make sure she pays for what she did to you.”

“I would love that, love that a lot.” There was nothing in his tone. Absolutely nothing. "Unfortunately she took away my enjoyment of things, my desire for suffering and the pleasure I took from it. She took it all because of you.”

“If you have nothing, you shouldn’t hate me…” Yet the Mage knew that wasn’t the case.

Indeed another magic circle illuminated the room from Macabro’s metallic hand. “Doesn’t mean I don’t dislike you. Actually, I think the former me would be happy that you can’t be Reincarnated and made the Matron upset since she ordered me to weaken you.” His eyes recovered some of his insanity and a small twitch could be seen on his lip. “That means that I can break you completely. Yes, the former me would like that.”

‘Will apparently isn’t the only way to break from the King Piece’s control…’ Shirou recognized silently. ‘Hatred works just fine.’ He let out a sigh, knowing that the man’s condition was partially his fault. “For what it is worth, I am sorry.”

“It’s worth nothing-”

“Sorry that I didn’t kill you.” Shirou could swear he saw some surprise in Macabro’s expression. “Nobody deserves to end like a shell of a person. Trust me, I know that better than most.” Taking a deep breath, the magus did his best to relax in his prison. “If anything I should have paid more attention to what happened after the factory. If I had followed your case and saw it to the end… Perhaps you would be dead or I would see her scheme from the get go.” Or maybe none of those. Maybe Lakmia would be able to convince him that having Macabro working for her was for the best. “Either way, this happened because I wanted to forget about you and what you did. For that I am sorry.”

Shirou utterly refused to forgive the man for his actions or excuse his participation on the black market that forced the magus’s hand in the first place. Yet he was completely willing to recognize his faults, how he should have kept an eye on Macabro so he was properly punished.

Or should just have killed him when he had the chance.

Either way Macabro was surprised by the honest apology and couldn’t help but snicker. “Dear me, look what you did… Perhaps she didn’t take everything. Then again, I doubt she ever would consider that I could draw amusement from an apology.” Another magic circle came to his free hand, both hovering over Shirou’s head. “You know that doesn’t change anything, right?”

“It clears my conscience.” Shirou replied with a smirk. “Don’t worry, I won’t make that mistake again.” His eyes recovered their edge as devil and magus faced off once again. “When this is all over, I will make sure you are dead.”

“Phf, sure, if you aren’t a vegetable by the end of this!” Whatever was left of the man he was before began to stir in Macabro. Perhaps it was that man who spoke next. “Just so you have a head’s up; I’ma gonna to throw you inside your worst memories where you are going to feel the most pain in a loop.” He could almost feel the familiar shiver as his magic prepared to invade his victim’s mind. How he was shivering as Lakmia had stolen his emotions, Macabro had no idea. “Gonna do it again and again until you are crying. Then gonna do it until you are begging and then I’ll keep doing it until the Matron shows up and stops me.”

Which meant that if she didn't the man wasn’t going to stop, if anything he didn’t care that Shirou was a vegetable after or retained the memories that Lakmia wanted gone.

His will, his hatred, demanded the redhead be broken completely and utterly so Macabro was challenging the Bishop Piece in his chest, ignoring the pain he himself was feeling by going against orders even if it was just the intent.

“Can’t wait to see what goes around your head. What the Mage of Swords fear the most.”

“Are you coming with me? Because if so, I am sorry.” Both were smiling for different reasons. “It is going to be unpleasant.”

“For you. I’m just gonna watch you squirm.” Magic circles glowing brighter and Macabro took a step forward so the prosthetics made contact with Shirou’s head.

In the blink of an eye Shirou saw hell and couldn't help but chuckle. “Back here again…”

……