AN: 11:38 PM, July 8th, 2018. Ok, I've been lazy enough today, lets get back to work.


Gabin, all things considered, preferred to avoid Vatican. The city was beautiful and all, but the moonlit side of the place was zealot central. He honestly believed half of them hadn't even read to bible, but they still had this "Holier than tough" attitude that only seemed to drive the point in further. The shear number of hypocrisies that one could find simply staggering. In a friend of his once said, "It's a universally roman church." which is to say, it is rome-like before it is church-like.

Not that he had anything against Catholics as a whole, but he and several of his friends, had had negative experiences with them, and that wasn't counting the executors. They were the worst of the lot. Then never seemed to know more of there own faith than was necessary to keep up a public facade and preform the baptism rite. Beyond that, well, their motto might as well be "any heresy in the name of God", which alone was enough to show their flaws.

Yes, Gabin truly avoided Vatician. If he wanted to go to church, it would be either a Lutheran, or Anglican one. Maybe evangelical . . . that's beside the point. The point was that he'd rather not be here. Unfortunately, he couldn't get the information he needed out of them. They probably had it, but seeing as Gabin had earned a but of a reputation for destroying ancient magical artifacts, intentionally, they were withholding information.

The fact that he had used the person who drove him to start destroying artifacts in the first place just made it worse, but hindsight is twenty-twenty, he didn't have time to waste, so he had to call in a few favours with the "Holy Church".

That didn't make looking the utter unholy monster of a woman known as Narbareck any less terrifying. The woman oozed sadistic blood-lust even here, and the girl was still in her teens! No wonder they never let her out of her room. And there was even talk of her being the next number 01 . . . sure, she took down an ancestor, and Gabin would admit that she was stronger than he was, by a goodly margin.

"I get the feeling that you'd rather not be here." the . . . girl half his age said, her smirk better suited to a deamon than a human.

"Yes, well, if I didn't have to be here I wouldn't." Gabin replied in perfect Italian. "However, my butting heads with the association has caused me some trouble in gathering the information I require, and thus I am here, talking to you, and wishing that Calastor had gone through someone else."

"Her smile only became more predatory. Yes, well, if you hadn't come right out of the blue, master snipe would have been able to go through someone else, but, well, I'm the only one he could get on short notice." she ran her fingers through her hair. "and yes. We do have the information you need. In fact, I can think of a half dozen things that fit you requirements of the top of my head. But, weather or not we, the church, will give you anything depends on what you are willing to give in return."

Gabin tensed. Considering who he was talking to, it was likely that several free of charge suicide missions were in his near future.

"Weather or not I am able to give you anything is a matter of timing, as I may not be alive six months from now. If you ask something of me, then it had best be something I can accomplish withing that time frame."

"Oh?" she seemed intrigued, which made him more nervous. "would it be right to say that this data is may be paramount to saving your life?" she asked with the kind of kind smile that is clearly a case of "so cold it burns."

"Yes, it is." unfortunately, any sin committed within the boundary of Vatican's mystic side would be immediately revealed, thus he had to tell the truth.

"well then, I'm sure I can convince the Higher-ups to give you the information you require, so long as you promise to not divulge it to anyone outside the church, and promise us several favours upon the completion of your endeavours."

Gabin resisted the urge to flinch. In essence, she was saying that we could decide upon his payment latter, rather than now, which could turn out very badly, seeing as he was trusting his fate to a known murderous psychopath. 'Why, why did you have to agree to teach this girl battle tactics, Calastor? This has to be the biggest mistake in your carer!'

"In other words, my payment will be decided should I survive using it?" He asked.

"Of course, that way we can determine how much the information was in the long run, rather than the short term, and you cant cheat us with a bum deal." She went from sounding childishly cheerful to deadpan at the end.

Gabin sighed. 'and of course I have nothing to bargain beyond my services, so I can't even try to get a better deal' "Ok, I guess that seems reasonable." 'But I wont give her any more satisfaction from watching me squirm.'

"Ok!" if she was at all disappointed by his apparent lack of fear, then she didn't show it, and with a that cheerful exclamation, she jumped up and skipped out of the room and down the hall, like she was a normal girl, and not a murderous psychopath who had killed a half dozen vampires before she turned ten. "Coming?" she asked, poking her head back into the room.


"So, this is it?" Gabin asked, looking at a rather large bookshelf in a corner of an extremely well defended library.

"Yes, this is what your looking for. I've talked with the higher-ups, they said that you have until noon tomorrow to find the information you need. Good luck!" she sing song-ed, before turning around and leaving Gabin with the rather intimidating literary section.

Gabin, looking over the books, began to collect volumes from a multiple places, anything with a title that caught his eye. He'd rather not judge by cover, but he didn't have time to be non-discriminant.

It was hours before he could find something he could use, and hours more before he found the answer.


Calastor Grain somehow felt like he was in mortal peril. Now, considering how convoluted his twenty three years of life had been, this was a sensation he took with the utmost seriousness. This of course, meant he did not get a very good night's sleep.

"Ugh . . . " he groaned, holding his head. He had slept in ten minute busts, to scared to sleep for an overly prolonged period. Who knows when a dead apostle hunting revenge might rampage, of a magus who's relative he had killed, of worst of all, his old apprentice looking to punish him for leaving the burial agency! Sure, they still contact each other, so they seemed to still be on good terms, but she might decide to do it on a whim! That's just the kind of person she was.

Walking out of his room fully dressed, a large brief-case in hand, he checked the bracelets on either arm, each one bearing several "beads" shaped like modern weapons, ranging from guns and bombs to knives and even riot shields. Seeing that all was as it should be, he advanced down the hallway, his long coat and baggy undershirt doing well to conceal the body armour he wore underneath, which was a mystic code that far surpassed what modern body armour could block or deflect, even when reinforced.

Calastor was a man on a mission, and while he was ill rested, he couldn't afford to slow down. To much was at risk. So, rather than trying to rest, he quickly travelled to his vehicle, a rather large custom car, and drove out of town. He couldn't let anything slow him down.

His engine revved, it itself magically enhanced. After all, no normal engine could support his monster, which weighed over three tones, to regular speeds. His destination was an out of the way dirt road, that lead to an out of the way small town up in the mountains. His target, a magus specializing in human sacrifice and daemons. More specifically, the ways daemons can be formed in the wake of human death.

He wasn't being paid for his work here, but none the less he would give everything he had to exterminate his target. This wasn't for himself. Besides, he made enough money from his side jobs to be concerned with something like payment for his public services.

They worrisome thing was what the magus intended to do with his ritual. Now from what he could understand, the man was trying to create a higher level deamon by trapping the people of the town in a state of constant nightmares and near death, before killing them.

The ritual would be carried out in such a way that the "Leftover thought" remaining after their death would far exceed the norm, before fussing them into a single entity set on "escaping horror". The magus believed that he could achieve immortality if he researched enough daemons forming, and mimicking their existence.

Calastor had encountered his work before. In fact he'd had to kill daemons this man had created. Unfortunately, seeing as the daemons were unnamed and thus, not free, their master felt their death. Meaning that he new Calaster was on to him.

Calaster had managed to track him to this location, but was unable to approach directly, and had been forced to observe him with roundabout methods for days. It wasn't easy, but Calastor was out of time, the ritual would begin tonight, and he didn't intend to let anyone else die to this sick freak.

He could work about his sense of foreboding latter.

AN: 11:43 Pm July 15th, 2018. Well, another short chapter for the time put into it. I guess that it's hard to stay focused when you aren't working on the interesting part . . . another thing that annoys me, I've been trying to research the powers of servants, and I've already run into some inconsistency's.

For instance, Hrunting, when used as an arrow is described in one instance as reaching mach 10. and in another, it's described as covering "fast enough to reach it's target four kilometres away in less than a second." this is an inconsistency, as mach 10 is equal to 3.43 kilometres a second. In order to cover ten kilometres in a second, a speed of mach almost mach 12 is required, and it would have to be fast for "Less than a second."

Another problem is that servants, being spiritual being given temporary physical form, can defy physics at times, such as running straight up walls, ect. This leaves me confused as to the effectiveness of mass times speed equations. And that's before taking the conceptual side of things into account. And that's before taking into account things like the time berserker supposedly blocked Excalibur. Really wish I could get my hands on that visual novel about now . . . the clean version that is.

Oh, well, nothing to do but keep looking, so until next time!