Hello, everyone! Welcome to (hopefully) spring season around the world, although it's a bit early and still with too much rain. I had a blast watching the Dakar Rally and Australian Open, and massive props to the champions across all classes (especially you, Federer!). What a way to start the sporting season (those who follows the calendar instead of the school term like soccer and basketball, anyway).
Before I begin answering the mailbag, does anyone have a way of watching (for free, of course) the new Heaven's Feel movie? For the life of me, I can't watch it through my usual (semi-legal) ways. If anyone has downloaded it and wants to share, I will be eternally grateful and hang your name on my figurative wall.
Now, the mailbag:
EVA-Saiyajin: Actually, the only major differentiation between 'bow' and 'curtsy' in regards to gender only happened around 17th century. Before that, the motions similar enough for the two words to be interchangeable. Good point, though. I initially noticed the mistake a few chapters in, but after some research, decided to keep it. Thanks for the comment!
: Thanks for the update on "Princess Lover". Regarding the 'seed', this will stay within the boundaries FFn demanded, despite my most fervent wishes, so there'll be no explicit sex here.
DPSS: Really? I'm not sure where you got that information from; can you share it with me? Initially, I couldn't confirm your point, so I used it in the story anyway. Please PM me for further explanation.
The Rupture: Thanks for your support. Unfortunately, currently, I don't have the confidence to write harem stories. I don't want to be just a cheap, sex-filled story filled with ridiculous male imaginations regarding actual relationships. Perhaps in the next project, your hope will come true! I hope you'll stay with me until then, but in this story, Shirou won't have any real romance with anyone other than Mordred.
With that over, I also want to thank those unheralded people usually unmentioned in these Author's Notes: the anonymous commenters who reviewed my story and gave out pointers, both good and bad. Even though your comments may not receive a response, it's your words which spurned me, and I bet many of my fellow writers, to continue to type and think and engage in the community. Thank you very much, both formally and informally.
Now, enjoy the story! Let me know what you think of it in the comments section. Don't forget to follow and favorite!
- Drip. Drip. Drip.
A breath of refreshing, cold morning air enters my lungs, moist with intermittent rain. The chill is pleasant, after a sweaty and hot night on the bed with Mordred who was as aggressively clingy as usual. This time I managed to satisfy her enough to make her miss the morning training, which is great, but I miss her presence beside me already after a few hours.
- Drip. Drip. Drip.
The stray water droplet hits my sword, this time the tachi Mikazuki Munechika. Instead of letting it splash against the beautifully-tempered surface pattern, I loosen my body and moves my arms in a slow, deliberate circular motion, increase my concentration to the limit, and feel the weight of the water droplet. Following and redirecting its trajectory so it stays in a circular sphere, I follow my arms' movement with my upper torse, hips, and legs, performing a delicate circular dance based on Taijiquan and Taijijian before one final downwards diagonal stroke lets the water droplet fall gently to the ground, still in its original spherical shape.
"Uwa..." Mordred's sound of amazement is heard from behind, but it fails to breach my concentration.
I carefully let one steaming breath out, having manipulated my Od alongside my body to ensure my muscular movement has no lag or jerkiness for the practice earlier.
Turning my head slightly and smiling, I say, "You're late, sleepyhead."
"Mou!" Running up to me with Clarent on her hips, she lightly slaps my shoulder. "It's your fault that you're so amazing last night!" Blushing, she continues in a smaller voice, "Um... s-so amazingly good... H-How about t-tonight after dinner...?" She asks with an upturned pair of eyes.
Rubbing her head, I smile as she twists her body seductively in pleasure.
"Let's finish morning training first, shall we?"
"O-Oh! Are you going to teach me that awesome technique?" Mordred pips up, excited at my new swordsmanship.
Laughing, I reply, "Ahahaha! No, now's not the time, for two reasons. One, it'll make your current style redundant, because it doesn't suit you." I can see her pouting at my excuse, but I keep on explaining to her, "You have the talent to master it, but you'd have to completely break down your own style to do so, and we don't have that luxury now."
"Muu..." she groans, asking, "what's the second reason?"
Shrugging my shoulders, I say, "I haven't fully mastered it yet. Or, more precisely, unlike you, my musculature needs time to adjust to fully optimize that technique."
"Even with Unlimited Blade Works?" Mordred asks, surprised at my inability to nail the style first time asking.
"Even with that," I concur.
Taking some distance away from her, I ready my blade.
"Therefore, I need a sparring partner to perfect it," I claim, smirking. "Get ready, dear."
Grinning, she replies energetically, "You don't need to tell me twice!"
Her Mana Burst explodes, scattering the ambient rain and dew spherically away from her body. Even with the slippery and uneven footing, her movements are crisper and sharper than before, a sign she's been training hard even without my presence.
As always, her flexible body swings her sword at unnatural, wild angles at ridiculous speeds. Between the slashes come the punches and kicks, short and powerful, mixing the strange curves of Clarent with precise, pin-point cannon-like strikes. However, what I love from her most of all... is that she does all this while laughing and smiling, a far cry from her destined original self who's filled with resentment and anger.
Oops, I have to get serious real soon.
Normally, Taijijian is used with Chinese long swords, which are thin, light, and flexible, only slightly wider than Western rapiers. I'm trying to check whether its techniques are also applicable to the flowing lines of a katana, or in this case, the longer tachi. It's hard to adjust the mostly one-handed techniques from China to the two-handed Japanese sword, but it only requires a change in footwork and center of gravity.
Under Mordred's onslaught, which is like a meteor shower, Mikazuki Munechika glides along each attack, redirecting them slightly to the side and allowing me space to manouver. Its curved edge easily slides off Clarent's sharp, heavy edge, as I use flicks of my wrist and waist to fire off an instant counter as soon as both blades hit each other.
In hindsight, my current experimental form is similar to that phantom of Sasaki Kojirou the original Emiya Shirou encountered, graceful and fast, but with impenetrable defense in a one-on-one sword duel. Mikazuki Munechika's longer reach requires Mordred to stagger her movements awkwardly, disrupting her rhythm to avoid my accurate slashes and thrusts, unable to close the gap.
Avoiding a horizontal slash to her neck, she bends her upper body backwards. Using that falling momentum, she lets her body to drop parallel to the ground, and uses her free left hand as a pivot to launch an upwards kick to my wrist from her position near the ground. I simply lets out a short forward kick to block it, but the weak response I receive in return warns me of a trap, and sure enough, she suddenly drops her kicking foot and switches her weight onto it, spinning close to the ground and unleashing a sweep to my legs.
I change my stance to deal with the low attack, using Mikazuki Munechika to sweep the ground in various gentle arcs. However, Mordred isn't deterred, and sensing that a Japanese sword's main weak point is attacks to the legs or near the ground, advances while keeping herself crouched near the wet earth.
It's a smart tactic, very smart. Precisely because of its length, my sword lacks maneuverability in close quarters, and East Asian swordsmanship has little techniques to deal with leg strikes. Mordred can use her powerful muscles, aided with Mana Burst, to move quickly in a near-crouch position, mercilessly hacking at my legs.
However, how can I claim to be her master if I can fall to such tricks?
- [Sword Burst]
I swing my tachi in an upwards arc through the ground, cleaving it open smoothly directly towards Mordred's unguarded torso. She widens her eyes in surprise, before jerking her body to one side and rolling away from my strike.
"H-Hey! That's cheating!" She protests.
I simply chides her, "What did I always tell you?"
"Ugh..." she groans. "Yes, yes... 'Always be prepared' and 'Pragmatism is king', right? How many times has it been...?"
"Far more than ideal."
"Alright, alright! Take this!"
Mordred jumps high into the air, then rotates and strikes downwards with all her power, combining her centrifugal force and gravitational force as she falls. Vermillion magic energy accumulates alongside Clarent, a sign that she's going all out due to frustration.
I click my tongue.
'Tsk, this girl...!'
- Break.
Mikazuki Munechika shines gently, a green glow illuminating its finely tempered side pattern like a crescent moon, befitting its name. I sheathe the ridiculously long sword and take an Iaido stance.
Normally, it's practically impossible to use Iaido with swords longer than the average katana, which is about 2 feet. There's simply not enough rotation angle in a normal human's body, specifically its waist and back, to fully draw out longer swords, especially Mikazuki Munechika which is only slightly less than 3 feet in length.
However, none of the past Iai masters can use a Broken Phantasm.
Using the initial breaking phase, a small amount of explosive energy is released before the sword's full strength can be released beyond its limits, ending in the sword being shattered to pieces. It's a logic similar to a modern two-stage rocket, in which the preliminary propeller will ignite first, before the main boost kicks in and launches the rocket at full speed.
Inside its sheath, a part of the beautiful blade cracks, ejecting a loud snapping sound and a great amount of magic energy.
Then, using my fully Reinforced body and Sword Burst, Mikazuki Munechika is unleashed from its confines.
A collision between a blood-red light and a warm, green glow envelops the surroundings of Camelot silently, without disturbing even the dead branches on the old trees.
"I thought you lost control for a second there, Mordred," I sigh, walking over to her and pinching her cheeks. "Be more careful next time, alright?"
"Yesh..." she nods awkwardly as her cheeks are still pinched between my fingers. "Id hwurtz..."
Rubbing her reddened cheeks, she glares at me and stomps her feet. "Don't treat me like a child."
"Sorry, sorry," I say, patting her head. "Force of habit."
I let go of Mikazuki Munechika's broken blade as it disintegrates into pieces, its job done. Sulking, Mordred sheathes Clarent as well, annoyed at not being able to beat me once again. However, her control over her powers is improving greatly, as evident in the lack of destruction around us. She measured Mikazuki Munechika's power during our exchange, and only unleashes Clarent's power in an appropriate amount just to beat it, which was neutralized by my use of Broken Phantasm. It's my mistake to assume she was the same as her old, reckless self, which I'll gladly admit.
The weather has improved greatly as the sun finally shows its full face, drying off the considerable amount of moisture in the air and ground. Each dew and raindrop beautifully captures a glint of yellow sunrise in them, making the two of us momentarily silent to appreciate their beauty. In this solitary world of accelerated thoughts and enhanced senses, it's a privilege allowed only to Mordred and me, as the water droplets around us appears to breathe in and out in accordance to nature's laws.
The sound of wet footsteps announces Altria's arrival, breaking us out of our little moment.
"How vigorous already... in the morning," Altria remarks, her sentence cut in half by a yawn. Dressed in simple clothing with leather pants and fiber shirt, she looks like Mordred's more masculine self, more like a squire than a king. Did she dress this way when she was young, under the tutelage of Merlin, Kay, and her uncle?
A memory of a young, effeminate-looking boy pulling out a gilded sword out of a stone flashes through my mind, triggered by Altria's humble way of dressing.
All of this thought is processed through as quickly as possible to avoid Mordred being jealous at me for staring at another woman for too long, even her own father.
"Your Majesty," I acknowledge.
She waves her hand to dismiss my courtesy, lightly berating me, "I know this is not official, but at the very least, please address me like how you would a family member." Giving a meaningful look to Mordred, she proceeds to tag-team me, saying, "Isn't that right, Mordred?"
My beloved twitches like a rabbit caught in front of a wolf, and subsequently blushes and begins to wave her arms about.
"A-Ah...! No, I mean... i-it's good and all... Very awkward right now, Father!" She manages to stutter out, once again noncommittal to our future relationship.
Well, not that I mind. I still have stuff to do before thinking about marriage yet.
Chuckling at her antics, Altria put one hand on her hips near her sheathed practice sword.
"I understand. Then, can I have a practice match in return?"
'Er... those eyes aren't saying 'practice', Altria...'
It seems she's still sour over her loss to me a few days ago in front of the knights and retainers. It's odd for a woman of her stature that she chooses this place, devoid of any eyewitness, to avenge her honor, but it seems she cares very little for her swordsmanship's judgement as a king.
Oh, no. The one standing before us now is a swordsman, pure and simple.
Mordred gives me the exact same hungry look, practically wagging her imaginary puppy tail back and forth, eager to be let loose.
Relenting, I say while sighing, "Hand me Clarent."
She cheerfully unclasps her sword and takes a Traced practice sword from my other hand, swinging it a few times to check its balance. As always, it's perfect due to my extensive knowledge of her habits and likes, and the practice match between 'father' and 'son' begins.
Of course, when I say 'practice sword', it isn't the bamboo ones the original Emiya Shirou used in his dojo at home, or a wooden fake katana novice Japanese swordsman practiced with. It's a real, Western metal longsword, but with the edges sufficiently dulled to prevent serious injuries.
With these two, I fear even that step won't prevent any deaths if they both go all out.
Hopefully, they'll take this as easily as a family bonding time...
"Begin!"
Altria lets out a sigh full of content as she wipes her body with a cold towel.
"Fuu... I wished I could spar against your fiancee, Mordred," she grumbles half-heartedly. "But I need to work even harder to beat you first."
The younger Pendragon smirks from inside the hot water tub, saying, "That's if you didn't get surpassed by me first, Father."
The duel went well, in a sense that they both learned a tremendous deal from it as well as exercising their bodies. It's hard to imagine that these delicate women possess such tremendous strength, enough to crush a boulder bare-handed, with their spindly arms and soft curves without a trace of hard muscle. After several minutes, Shirou called time as the adjudicator as Camelot began to wake up from its slumber.
Their styles predictably contrasted each other. Altria favored her sure-footed stance, delivering precise, heavy blows without compromising on swing speed combined with a sturdy defense. Mordred moved her body much more freely, sometimes using moves that couldn't be called swordsmanship, as long as it's the most 'effective' attack, flexibly interchanging between attack and defense, her sword tracing natural lines through the air.
At first, Mordred started rather haphazardly, wildly attacking any gaps and powering through some that clearly weren't gaps without regard of it being a trap or not, a trait which Altria quickly took advantage of. However, it soon dawned on her that Mordred deliberately took on this style to learn her own attacking pattern, and as soon as her counterattack was stopped, Mordred was already able to adjust her blows and footwork. The younger blonde dances between Altria's slashes and returning said slashes from ridiculous angles, sometimes from laying down on the ground, forcing Altria to back off during the dual exchange.
Much of the spar then unfolded in the same manner. Mordred was skilled in creating these opportunities to exchange, letting Altria the slightest opening at a non-fatal area to pounce on her mid-swing across a similarly small gap, but a far more lethal one. However, when Mordred started her second and third swing in the middle of a combination, Altria used her experience to limit Mordred's space, taking away footings that the daughter could use to further press her advantage.
It resulted in a stalemate, with neither could score more than niggling scratches. As they both had their formal duties, more so with Altria than Mordred, they decided to bathe together. Well, it's more likely that Altria dragged her daughter to the central bathhouse to dress her up... 'appropriately', as she said. Knowing her father's tendencies, Mordred didn't put up too much of a fight, but she still sulked at not being allowed to spend more time with Shirou and dress however she wanted.
As she dips her lower body onto the hot stone tub, Altria inquires, "I am curious how strong Shirou really is."
Surprisingly, Mordred's reply is even shorter.
"I don't know."
Widening her eyes in shock, Altria asks, "Really? Even after all this time?"
"Umu," Mordred nods. "He never had the need to go all-out, even if I did. I think that time in the forest against Scáthach was one of the few times he used that spell of his, but even that wasn't full power, I'm sure."
"Spell... hmm... That 'bone of my sword' aria?"
"Yes."
Stretching her legs in the bath, several popping sounds crack through the bathroom from Altria's body.
"How ridiculous. That amount of power shouldn't be held by one person alone."
Mordred smiles, but her eyes are full of flames of passion. "He's not alone, Father."
"Haa..." Exhaling a tired sigh, Altria returns her daughter's smile. "I assume you will be there beside him, until the end of time?"
"Yup!"
"How romantic," she says lightly.
- Splash. Splosh.
Rising from the tub, she reaches out for a towel at her side, wiping her body dry.
"Well, I shall take my leave. Take care of not spending too long in here, Mordred, even though it feels nice."
Mordred fake-pouts. "So soon, Father? Why not enjoy it a bit more?"
She gets a sly grin in response of her question.
"Well, because of your antics, I have an international meeting to attend. So, thank you very much, my dear daughter."
"Muu... that doesn't sound like a compliment...!"
With a small laugh, Altria leaves Mordred alone to soak in the heat.
I whistle in admiration at Merlin's setup in the private conference room.
It is based on the modern idea of teleconference, when cutting-edge technology allows world leaders to communicate instantly, in real time, with minimal lag. The thing is, I never mentioned this stuff to him or even said something that might inspire him to do this. As a matter of fact, now that I think of it, I never talked much with him, no?
Either he had a flash of genius, which wasn't unlikely, or his Clairvoyance inspired him.
"Impressed?" The white-haired man asks.
I nod. "Very much. What inspired you to make this?"
"Necessity, I think," he admits. "I realized that this type of long distance communication for our emperors wasn't only good for our situation, it's turning vital. I wanted to use Clairvoyance for inspiration, but thanks to you, it went haywire, so I had to... improvise."
"Oh? Why is it because of me?" I question with one eyebrow raised.
He smirks.
"Please don't assume I'm like those foolish students of mine, or your run-of-the-mill magi. The presence of a Heroic Vessel, no matter how well-hidden, is as blinding as viewing the sun up close."
- Fou!
As he speaks, an adorable little white head full of fur pops out from his pocket, squealing cutely.
I instantly go battle-ready, Unlimited Blade Works primed to be summoned, all to kill this little thing.
- Fou! Fou!
In mutual apathy, it growls, revealing its tiny, dainty teeth and miniature jaw.
Our exchange goes unnoticed to this magus, who keeps on churning out explanation.
"Ah, going back to the topic, I simply used the common viewing glass orb, took its basic principles, and multiplied its dimension to accomodate all four: the three physical dimensions plus time." Droning on, he continues, "Of course, the challenge is precisely that: to accomodate images and sounds through that four dimensions. I won't disclose the precise formula, as is the norm, but..."
His words flies straight over my head as I glare at Primate Murder, and it glares back at me.
'Wanna fight?'
The two of us are conceptually incompatible, even more so than the future seven Counter Guardians that'll be chosen to chain it for the next few centuries. I am a being sent to ensure humanity's survival at all cost, while it prioritizes killing humanity for Gaia's survival at all cost. Granted, I mostly deal among humans to prevent them from ending themselves, but our purposes are still opposites.
- Fou!
With a huff, it points its dainty snout away and jumps off from Merlin's pocket, strutting off. I silently tracks its movements with my Eyes, but it doesn't seem intend to do anything to disrupt me.
In the background, Merlin is still talking.
"Then, the next step is to gain the acknowledgement and compromise from the other kingdoms' leaders. We're targeting the Romans to try and put an end to this stupid war, as well as asking for compensation, plus the tribal leaders in our fores-" He frowns, asking me, "Oi, are you listening?"
"No."
"G-Guh!" He seems hurt at my honest assessment.
I wave one of my hands at him, walking away. "Sorry, I had a bit too much on my mind. Do explain it to me once again in the future. Bye."
"O-Oi! Aren't you going to witness this... this innovation?! Hey!"
I ignore him and activate my Pure Eyes to its fullest ability, plus Tracing the entire castle complex. I have to find Primate Murder before anything bad happens.
I quicken my pace, silently tracking its steps.
My mind is sharp, calculating all the reasons of why on earth it appeared here. Through history, it has only appeared to annihilate the humans that were planning something dangerous that could seriously damage the World. Was it because of me? My meddling in this era of time will actually amount to nothing, as everything I've built up until now will be destroyed by that thing?
If we fight... I don't want to imagine the results.
Will I win? Will I lose? Will we draw? Initial predictions favor the latter – an ending of mutual destruction. Our battle will literally wipe this kingdom off the planet, Avalon or not. To be honest, I've never been pushed to my maximum, and my limits are all the result of simulation. Accurate ones, but simulation nonetheless. What will happen when I reach that perceived limit? Can I draw even more strength to surpass it, a trait the original Emiya Shirou has in spades? Or will I simply fade to nothingness as the simulation proved to be too accurate?
I don't know. I don't know anything.
For now, I have to ascertain its motives.
Oh, I won't rule out it's only here to play and fool around, and our meeting was nothing more than a coincidence. Such ridiculous reasons have a surprisingly high probability in my past missions, so I'll take that into consideration.
- Fou! Fou! Fou!
'There it is!'
I turn the corner as fast as I can without looking unnatural.
"Kyaaa! Aren't you cute!?"
...only to see Primate Murdred snuggling into Mordred's nape, with her petting it heavily and grooming its fluffy white fur.
Her face lits up even more when she sees me.
"Oh, Shirou!" She beams, chirping, "Can we keep it? Can we?"
Even her puppy-dog stare doesn't move me.
"It belongs to Merlin, I think, so we can't," I put up an excuse, placing the magus as the sacrificial lamb. "Besides, it's one of Gaia's agents, designed especially to combat me. I don't think we should go near it."
"O-Oh..." Her face is a mixture of surprise and disappointment.
'Are you prioritizing it over me?! Come on, dear!'
- Fou...
Oh, now it looks sad.
"Haa..." I sigh.
It seems attached to Mordred, which is both good and bad. In this form, its physical instincts seem strong, acting like a normal puppy around those it trusts. If it's happy like that, then good! I don't have to factor it in much of my plans, and it'll stay out of my way if it's satisfied doing this stuff. On the opposite, if I insist on it being as far away from me as possible, it may develop negative emotions that'll make it hell-bent on preventing me on doing my job.
"Alright, fine," I relent. "But I don't want it near us during our private time, got it? You're going to have to tell it personally, because I guarantee it won't listen to me."
"Ufufufu! You hear that, cute one?! Hear that?!" She excitedly speaks, even using a tone she uses when she plays with the kids at the orphanages she visited a few months ago. "You've got to listen to him, alright? Well, I know you both don't get along, so... just don't get in each other's way, got it?"
- Fou!
'Well, that settles that...'
Exhaling in relief, I say, "Well, I'm going to watch Altria's conference. You go and play with it... er, Primate Murder, alright? You can name it whatever you want, though, as long as it agrees."
Smirking, Mordred jaunts, "You said you dislike it, but don't you know an awful lot about it? What's its favorite food, then?"
"Human soul."
"W-What?!"
Nodding seriously, I continue, "I always have the tendency to find out the most about my enemies, Mordred. 'Keep your enemies closer'... and all that. However, don't sweat it too much. If it likes you, it'd keep liking you 'till the end of time. For guys like me, we'd be in an eternal fight forever. Keep that in mind."
"A-Alright..." she replies, dumbfounded.
With calm, abated breath, Galahad observes the carriage traveling underneath him. He makes sure he keeps his distance, silently traversing the forest canopy on the side of the gravel highway. One of its occupants, the elf, has excellent detection ability, so he needs to be careful not to reveal his presence.
'What a coincidence...'
Just a few days after their battle, here they are, traveling side-by-side to the same location. There's only one major highway to take between Camelot and Corbenic, the castle where his birth mother calls home, and as he rushed alongside it, eager to take the shortest route possible to eliminate this annoying sound in his head and check on his birth mother, a carriage appeared, carrying with it a significant amount of leaked magic energy.
He suspects the leak is deliberate, because no magi worth their salt will announce their arrival with such a crude method. It's likely a method of deterrent, because the amount of magic energy emitted is above even Nimue, in her constrained human form. Of course, he only had a glimpse of the elf during their battle in the forest before he's taken out, so all of this is mere speculation without knowing her personality.
He refocuses his mind, and paces himself not to overtake the carriage. He's pressed on time due to his youth-induced impatience, but the goal of the people inside the carriage is far too intriguing to be left alone. Are they malicious? Are they allies to him? Because this journey concerns Elaine, his mother, he decides to be careful and protective.
Unbeknownst to him, the magic energy he felt isn't a deterrent, but a detection method.
Filvis, while still conversing merrily with Gareth and Cecilia, has deployed a thin, almost imperceptible cloud of magic energy made from particles of mana, manipulated so thinly through the medium of sunlight to spread in a mile-wide sphere, encapsulating both the sky and ground. The amount of information this technique produces will render a normal human unconscious and bleeding from every orifice, but it's a testament to Filvis's maximized potential that she's able to not only use it effectively, but still has enough presence of mind left to interact with others.
The fact that Galahad can sense this technique's deployment is solely due to his connection with the Holy Grail, nothing more. Even an experienced magus won't be able to tell they're being observed, so fine is this technique. To make an example of it, it would be similar to a person detecting a minute change in the air's barometric pressure using their skin alone: practically impossible.
Inside the carriage, the space is filled with girly talks and laughter as they continue their banter from a few days ago, this time discussing their ideal marriage partner. Having been made fun of due to her obliviousness, Cecilia is now hammering her new friend, Gareth, of which man can she bring home and survive meeting her elder brother.
Filvis, meanwhile, puts on an attentive face while tracking down Galahad.
'So, this boy's still alive...'
Last time she saw him, Shirou flattened him in a split second, her elven eyes unable to keep track of the flying body. However, she distinctly remembers the incredible magical energy output that the boy exploded with earlier from his fight with Cecilia and co., a few moments before she and Shirou arrived. Initially, she was curious on what could make the boy's Od feel so... artificial, but her mind was then taken by the need to address the incoming Roman army.
Now that she has time to think, as the carriage trundles onwards with the coachmen in front, she grows increasingly interested in Galahad's innate ability.
This detection technique of hers is inspired by that blasted man, Heroic Vessel SHIROU. He once said to her that using his Pure Eyes wasn't the be-all-and-end-all in his repertoire, and he relied on his innate detection skill as well, manifested as a sense of smell. That was odd in itself, because the majority of magi and magic users interpreted detection as a 'feel', not a 'scent', but she's digressing. In any case, she too wanted something as a preliminary threat identifier, and thus created this technique: Corona Haze.
Through it, she can tell there's... something inside Galahad. That something, clearly, shouldn't belong there, but what intrigues her too is the revelation she receives: this boy is an artificially-enhanced human ever since he was born.
She's not someone that'll experiment on the unborn, stillborn, and the just-born because of her curiosity or her preference as a magus, but she's familiar with the steps taken to modify a human being from a fetus, thanks to some of her former classmates under Merlin. Disgustingly, Merlin never gave even a single warning, not once, so she took matters into her own hands and crushed their research.
He never reacted to it, only responding with a casual shrug someone would do when their hopeless lottery tickets didn't work out.
From this distance, that's pretty much all she can ascertain. That something is acting like some kind of energy reactor, pulsing and emitting energy to circulate through his body periodically. Is it a vital organ for him? Will he die if she destroy this something? Where did he get it from? Who placed it in him?
Well, if he made a move against Cecilia, she'll make sure to find out all of the answers.
His movements, clearly shadowing their group, doesn't feel malicious, so she'll let him tag along. Who knows, borrowing Shirou's optimism, that he can be used as an unwilling ally? At this stage, with so little information regarding the Holy Grail, anything can happen, so she'll keep her eyes out.
"What about you, Sister? What do you think?" Cecilia asks, breaking her out of her secret mulling.
Smiling, she replies, "Well, Gareth will be a virgin forever, then~"
"NOOOOOOOOOO!"
Glossary Update!
M
Mikazuki Munechika – Three Crescent Moons
Rank: D (C)
Type: Anti-Unit
Range: 3
Max. Targets: 2
One of the famed Tenka-Goken, forged by the famous swordsmith Munechika. Known as one of Japan's national treasure, its smith always did things at his own pace only. As a tachi, it was designed for field use to kill horses and their riders in one stroke, but it became a ceremonial sword instead due to its beautiful crescent moon pattern. As such, it has little power beyond normal swords, but it receives a boost within Japan's borders, especially in proximity to Inari shrine. Legends claim it to be blessed by the whimsical fox deity, but it was exactly that: a whim.