Long time no see. Who knows getting involved in another's wedding can be so busy? Therefore, I can finish and upload this chapter right about now for you guys. However, I'm glad you all received the previous one well. This chapter will be a continuation and conclusion of the fight in the previous chapter. Once again, I think it'll happen across a timespan far too short relative to those drawn-out battles in anime, but I'm working on it!

Also, there's some objects in this chapter which won't make it to the Glossary Update just yet, mainly because they're simply modifications of canon things. Perhaps I'll find the time to flesh them out more in the future.

Mailbag time!
AlternateReality: Oh, yes, definitely. Perhaps it won't be as in-your-face as per TYPE-MOON tradition, but it'll be addressed.
Mythic Imagination: [the replies' excerpt] ...I feel the need to correct one of your sentences: "...how little of his former standards there are left". Heroic Vessels aren't reincarnation stories; they're OCs built upon the blank slate of one of many original versions of a similar character. So SHIROU has never and did not live as 'Shirou Emiya', merely possessing his memories and thoughts via the Akashic Records. Apart from that, he's his own man - not EMIYA, and not Shirou Emiya either. In this case, the subtle words I use are intended to show he's actually BUILDING UP a standard moral code he's satisfied with through the various stories in the series - so perhaps I haven't emphasized that fact enough. [...] I'm more of the opinion these tomes' characters are simply too young and too inexperienced to build the same understanding (however perverted/wrong) of human emotions, as well as grow into the threats their canon FGO counterparts portray. Regarding Medea, she now has enough skill and nous to defeat FSN!Berserker on her own without Assassin's assistance. This story's Herakles is a complete being, though, and still some way above her level. Maybe I'll put this fact somewhere in future chapters.
Greyfox2: Thank you for the review. "...trio of loveliness", huh? Wonder why TYPE-MOON haven't published an artwork with the three girls I'm going with all this time... Perhaps we should start a petition/commission?

In front of Atalanta's very eyes, the gigantic Calydonian Boar collapsed, before shrinking quickly like a deflated processed animal bladder. A warm atmosphere escaped the process, blowing its disgusting stench across what remained of the forest, temporarily overwhelming the overall sweet stench of Medusa's Blood Fort Andromeda, causing her to scrunch her nose.

Medea gently floated downwards, a good layer of sheen of sweat covering her youthful features. However, unlike Atalanta before, she's not completely out of breath – a sign the spell worked perfectly with no backlash to the magus. Now, though, the 'first wife' had already recomposed herself, wiping the dried remains of blood from the corners of her lips, weakly standing up and smiling towards the younger girl.

"What a powerful Magecraft. Is that the completed version?"

Medea smiled back, satisfaction apparent from the glimmer in her eyes. "Almost. There's only the matter of condensing it for faster application, but the effects I've achieved just now were satisfactory."

[Rule Breaker], in effect, didn't turn out to fit quite the 'disease' analogy she's been using all this time. Perhaps, from a third-person's point of view, it appeared more like a uniform rain of Anti-Magic rather than an obtrusive Thaumaturgical line rampaging inside a magical construct. Of course, it's not literal Anti-Magic, because that's another enchantment entirely, but the grandness of the accumulated knowledge of a proper nullifying Magecraft against another made little difference to it.

The final result was the aspect of [Nullification] on any magical construct it touched. The optimum level of [Water] would nullify its respective [Fire], and so on and so forth. The two opposing forces might not necessarily have the same physical presence to be equal to each other, only their Conceptual Weights. Therefore, Medea also built-in an automated estimating system to help her eyeball the necessary opposing force… which she did iteratively for every possible combination her entire family – both old and new – could think of, before leaving it to intelligently update itself with self-simulations.

The Calydonian Boar finally lost its final clinging to life, and the disgusting stench weakened…

…before being replaced by a powerful wave of demonic energy.

Naturally, all three girls already knew this would happen. [Rule Breaker] might be all-powerful against any magical construct, especially in the form of bindings, but in exchange, its destructive power was nearly nonexistent. It's inevitable the individual behind all this destruction would still be fresh after all that.

The only unexpected thing was perhaps the lack of effectiveness of said individual's artificial healing factor for the Calydonian Boar earlier, because it didn't carry over after Medea severed their connection. That's the issue with this healing method – depending on its nature, it might be a constant-maintenance type, which would consume more unnecessary energy than a natural method, such as their husband's 'trick' to heal Hecate – or so he claimed.

The most basic healing technique a magus would've learned from a proper teacher would be the combination of magical and physical healing. The latter meant inducing the body's healing factor to not only work overtime without taking away any lifetime from the soul, but also to accept the foreign injection of outside matters. Overly doing it would shorten one's life unnecessarily, such as the enhancements provided by a cursed item or a flawed healing gem.

Medusa landed silently beside them, keenly eyeing the humanoid creature emerging from the still-smoking remains of the giant beast. Cybele was fully trained on that silhouette, though like earlier, she expected it to have little effect. If she was at full power…

'No. I have my family now…! I have no need to delve into that this soon!'

"Poor creature…" Atalanta whispered, levelling a silent prayer to Artemis to accept this beast's soul. While she didn't know its origins, it's still an innocent being enslaved by a malevolent force. "May you rest in peace."

The intense pressure from Ars Theurgia simply washed over the three women, as they stood there confidently. They'd felt the crushing suffocation of Poseidon's and Hecate's full strength. They'd seen their husband's full power in action during one of their training sessions, as well as Herakles's for Atalanta during her promotion tests as an adventurer.

This being was, instead… not weak, but incomplete. As if it's a child instead of an adult – both its thinking method, battle experience, and inefficiency in managing its own energy for the result were very lacking. That said, it's still incomparably powerful – perhaps only Medusa's fully unleashed potential could battle it one-on-one without any assistance.

However, when compared to Ars Goetia and Notoria – or what their husband and Herakles described – it's somewhat… anticlimactic.

Its humanoid form stayed that way, a cluster of the previous maroon flesh near the shape of a four-limbed individual. There's no defining features – no face, no eyes, no mouth…

…to be frank, they couldn't even tell whether it's facing them or the other way around.

While this sight might incite fear and apprehension for mere mortals, the three of them were experienced enough – even the sheltered Medea and young Medusa – to steel their stomach and observe the strange creature directly.

Its proportions were naturally off, having asymmetric parts left-to-right, front-to-back, as well as imbalanced arms-to-legs ratio. Its head was oddly elongated upwards, with inversely-proportioned torso and hips.

Just like how a clay model made by a child would look like… after they already had a serving of warm dinner, and thus sleepy and sloppy.

For the three ladies, it looked almost comical, if not for the clearly inhuman and dangerous presence it emitted constantly, without control, like a mere instinctive beast.

How fitting it inhabited the beast from earlier, whose carcass had now reduced to a more normal size – still bigger than a normal pig, though – as well as the one human Atalanta thought had little-to-no human sympathy since she was a child.

She silently chided herself for the embarrassing display in front of her 'junior wives'. She's the oldest – she should've set a better example! Like the gallant warriors of Amazons Medea looked up to, and always blabbered about during their bedtime to the wowed Medusa…

'Alright. Maximum effort…!'

Shaking the remaining numbness in her body off, the soft fur inside her ears and around her tail bristled with emotions.

Why did she let herself be overwhelmed by the sight of her father – real or not – in the battlefield? How many times had she seen her comrades being seriously injured, or outright died, simply because they couldn't control their emotions? For sure, that's not to be suppressed like some cults' teachings, but to be harnessed, instead of letting it rule over oneself unchecked.

The anger, hatred, vengeance… all of those negative emotions should be burned as fuel for her arrow, instead of letting them burn her. Still, despite theoretically knowing that, and having studied under her husband for so many years, she still let that black flames sting her painfully.

What if that led to Medusa's and Medea's harm? Would she be able to forgive herself then? Would she be able to live with the knowledge she could… no, should do better, under her husband's accusing eyes?

Not that Shirō would realistically showcase that kind of lowly, shallow judgement, but the point was still valid.

The devastated forestry around them began to sprout life anew, as her determination rose again with the dwindling of the numbing pain. Seeing this, both Medusa and Medea smiled gently at the older sister figure they all looked up to. Of course, sometimes her antics could be overbearing, such as her insistence of using wilderness terms and structure into their family, but they'd gotten used to it and attributed it to her different viewpoint and common sense.

Because only when the three of them were together, they were unbreakable.

However, Medusa had the feeling this moment wasn't the most appropriate to get all wistful and teary-eyed, and said resolutely, "Medea, I'm using that."

"Already? Shouldn't we wait until it proves to be too much to handle? I don't think this thing in front of us will even reach full power in the time it'll take for Shirō to get here," Medea questioned, despite not doing anything to really dissuade Medusa from this decision. "It's simply… incomplete, rather than immature. The latter could be overcome with time; the former couldn't."

"Two reasons. One, personally, I don't like that chances," Medusa protested back, already coursing her energy through the two objects she's about to use. "Two… I want to test things. It's semi-permanent, anyway – I should be fine!"

The two of them looked at Atalanta at the same time, seeking backing for their respective arguments.

However, the oldest girl simply stared back at them, immediately replying, "Why are you two looking at me? Both of your points are equally valid; all we have to do is test out every options, no? Medea, simply get ready with your most appropriate restraining spells. I am ready to take over the offensive."

The young magus sighed, relenting.

Medusa flashed Atalanta a quick smile, before throwing two red orbs – which she'd been preparing since earlier – into the air… and down into her mouth.

Even from some distance away, Ars Theurgia realized what that violet-haired slim young woman was ingesting: blood.

Crystallized blood, to be more precise. While processes vary, the end result was a solid prismatic structure redder than the best rubies. Some preferred adding certain alchemical ingredients into the liquid to coagulate it evenly – any imperfections would not only look ugly, with no luster or reflections, but also prevent the pseudo-Magic Circuits imprinted inside the bodily fluid to form a coherent structure, rendering it unusable. Once again, most magi's recipes varied even between fellow apprentices, simply because they're dealing with highly variable ingredient… blood.

Others weaved in their spells straight into the blood itself. While this was more practical and often faster, it held a higher risk of contamination of the blood's original magical attributes and other characteristics with the magi's own signatures. This could produce confusing results and differing desired end product… if not explode violently at every stage of the production. Therefore, this method was usually reserved for one's own blood, when the magi specialized in this style of Magecraft, since it's a guaranteed match without rejection, and incredibly fast to produce for experienced casters.

One of those consumed by Medusa was the latter…

…because it's Medea's own virgin blood, reserved straight after her husband deflowered her that fateful night.

The other was uniquely easy to produce, because of the incredibly high quality and dense Conceptual Weight it held.

Similarly, it's Medusa's virginal blood – one she requested Medea to conserve for further use, because she thought this scenario could happen in the future.

Her sudden growth spurt was, naturally, accompanied by a wholesome change to every fiber of her being, including all of her bodily fluids. By summoning the spirits of Stheno and Euryale to provide her with spiritual closing, Persephone also allowed their separated Saint Graphs to interact, resonate, and partly fuse with each other, because they're originally one object: humanity's wishes and desires.

This was Gorgon. Not the monster, not the three helpless girls, and neither was the current Medusa.

To a female, virginal blood extracted straight from a naturally-broken hymen – that was, with a proper loving dick, which contained the opposite magical nature and neutralized the process – held the highest concentration of Mystery in it. This was why rapists at this day and age often got curiously stronger with each crime, requiring the authorities to devise a scheme to stamp them out at the earliest stage to prevent future troubles. The most worrisome was criminals who actually understood how to fully extract, process, and utilize the result of their crimes, instinctively or intellectually.

That was one of the reasons why centaurs were no more, with Chiron being the last member remaining.

Going back to Medusa's own, Medea was actually shocked how resistant it was to contamination. In fact, every step she preferred required much, much more magical power than necessary – far exceeding the amount the previous 'explosion' warning threshold recommended – as if the blood itself was alive and consuming the magical energy around it. It's only due to its minimal amount Medea finally succeeded in concentrating, coagulating, crystallizing, and tempering it to this final form through a method original to her own, derived from the teachings of Hecate and Circe.

The result… was predictable.

Medea simulated Medusa would've been able to assume her fully-grown form just with the magus's blood, much less the Gorgon's own, which also contained the remains of her sisters after her body was transformed through her mental visit to Elysium.

So, what would happen if she consumed both at the same time?

Perhaps… an existence surpassing Shirō would be born?

To the three ladies, their husbands held a place higher than their patron gods in their hearts. Even though the deities were their pseudo-parents, far more accommodating than the humans around them… they weren't around all the time. The girls still lived through their difficulties on their own, facing their challenges with their own strengths and weaknesses.

It's only when he entered their lives they could call themselves… complete.

Medea wasn't sure whether it's the influence of his patron 'deity', the one called Alaya, because other examples did show it's possible. She tried to share this to her fellow wives, but the two summarily dismissed it as her own Thaumaturgical thoughts, because they're truer to their wilder sides, especially Atalanta.

She shook her head once again, allowing her youthful face to mature momentarily and her long lilac ponytail to sway side-to-side.

The transformation was already complete. What she's going to say from this point on was moot. Atalanta did have a point, though: all she had to do was prepare for the worst, instead of wasting time arguing.

Right in front of their eyes, Medusa's height exploded upwards, towering over them with her serpentine purple hair – now undone due to the sudden increase in mass tearing apart its bindings – spreading around like a heroic cape behind her. Instead of the tender golden scales creeping up her limbs in her previous form, a full-body golden armor flowed around her incredibly curvaceous body… earning her a heated stare form Atalanta, to which she squirmed embarrassingly.

With horns and spikes on the sides of her head and shoulders – also golden – the shining gleam was tempered by the pure white and maroon undertunic showing through the gaps around her joints. The armor pieces clicked into place with a style the other two girls, as well as Ars Theurgia, had never seen before, because instead of semicircles commonly found in today's armor sets, they interlinked in arcs, tongues, and interlocking links to create an incredibly form-fitting snugness.

An actual purple cape also flapped underneath her hair, around the same length, as well as a pair of wings breaking through two spots on her back. Predictably, the feathers themselves matched the armor, though their golden luster looked more natural than the metallic sting of the latter.

Atalanta and Medea were forced to look up… a lot, because the little girl they'd known had now become nearly as tall as Herakles. Like the S-Ranker, it's highly likely her muscles and skeleton were far denser than what's necessary to hold such posture, because of the incredibly dense Conceptual Weight rolling out of her in waves.

"Amazing…"

Which one of them uttered that, they weren't sure.

Atalanta was the first to break out of her stupor, playfully tossing Tauropolos lightly in the air a few times before aiming her sights at Ars Theurgia's alien form once again. "I am ready whenever you are, big girl."

"H-Hey!"

"As am I," Medea quickly added to tease her a bit more. "O' towering beauty, do grace us with your performance today."

"M-Muuu…! Stop that!"

The sight of a completely mature and elegant face going as red as fresh magma – and about as hot – almost brought the two of them to an uncontrolled laughter, if not for the presence of an enemy in front of them. The feet-stomping which followed soon after… wasn't cute at all, because it nearly made Atalanta and Medea fall over because of the sudden localized earthquake happening.

Clearly, Medusa still had a long way to go to mastering this form.

However, just this little amount was enough to deal with everything Ars Theurgia could throw at them… as proven when an uncontrolled violet beam suddenly shot out from Cybele right into the humanoid monster.

- BANG!

"Ha-wa-wa-wa-wa…! H-How…?! W-Why… How can I control thiiiiiiissssssss…?!" Medusa tried her best to wave her hands and legs around without moving her head, lest the beam would impact everything else in her field of vision. "HHHEEEEELLLLLLLPPPPPPPP!"

- BANG! BANG! BANG!

Mercilessly, the third of Pandora's tome was constantly bombarded without respite, leaving it in a constant state of self-regeneration without being able to fight back. It tried to groan in pain, but before its vocal chords and organs were able to create any sound, the violet beam was endlessly grinding it down into ash.

Many would say a self-regenerative technique was enviable… and this was true to an extent. Who among morals didn't fear diseases? Old age? Disability? Misfortune? Any method to enhance and prolong one's survival in this chaotic age, where beasts ate men, men blasphemed gods, and gods birthed beasts, was very crucial and desirable. Not even every god had true regeneration – for instance, Hecate was physically and spiritually completely spent after a battle where she gave it her all, in contrast to the enhanced Poseidon who could fight as long as his vital points weren't taken control of.

To a mortal, a god might appear to be immortal, but that's simply because of their nature as a Divine Spirit. They lived a long life, sure, but the continuous historical and developmental line of humanity was a decisive factor they lacked, leading to a pantheon's shorter life span than the entire human history. They might appear unkillable, but that's only when faced against objects and techniques with lesser or incompatible Conceptual Weight. If those two conditions were met, then they're just as vulnerable as anyone else on a similar level.

For Medusa, it's clear her current form far outweighed her incomplete opponent, to the point it's getting dangerous for Atalanta and Medea as well.

- Pat.

"You do it like this."

A comforting masculine voice spoke from behind the now-statuesque Medusa, who didn't dare look at the speaker, lest Cybele – who had no eyes, pun intended – harm this beloved person of hers as well.

What she suddenly felt irritating was the fact she couldn't feel his calloused, large, comforting palm directly on top of her scalp, because her golden helmet was in the way. Oh, she sure could feel its familiar weight, but it's shielded by the cool sensation of the alien metal, not the familiar warmth and tender care she adored since she was small.

Quite literally.

"Shirō…"

In contrast to the cataclysmic showing she's creating right in front of her, where Cybele was busy re-landscaping the entire forest – or what remained of it after their earlier fight – with intermittent bursts of purple radiant light beams, her voice was weak and full of plea. While her husband's presence here was comforting, in a way that now there's no way Atalanta and Medea could get hurt anymore… that meant there's perhaps only one way they could solve this method without her mother's presence.

That was… for her to suffer the same fate as her sisters. With her head rolling on the floor.

However, that though was immediately dispelled when said hand, which was rubbing her head over her helmet previously, pulled in her neck and shoulder for a comforting hug, supported by the other one around her waist. Of course, this put the out-of-control Cybele uncomfortably close to Shirō's face, causing her to panic.

"Shirō! D-Don't…!"

"It's alright."

Those were two words she's heard far too often, and while it always soothed her in the past, somehow, it incited a slight color of disgust from inside her. How could he not understand?! She's worrying for his safety, as well as Atalanta's and Medea's, so why…?! This wasn't the time for false kindness or white lies, so…

- Sshhh…

"See? Or can you feel it better?" He uttered calmly to the side of her helmet, where one of the large horns were located near her ear. "My magic… let it course through you like always."

"I-It's different…! Why is this happening…?!" Instead of calming down, Medusa's current form merely detected the irregularities in his Od flow more acutely. Oh, it wasn't as if this Shirō was fake – she's sure Atalanta and Medea would've taken care of any impostor long before he could reach her – but it's no longer the same 'taste' of magic she constantly felt from his blood and semen.

"It's because I'm using it to imitate something else to perfection. It may feel strange. Please bear with it," he apologetically explained, not letting go of the hug despite it certainly not feeling good. Who would want to hug a tall woman in a cold, gaudy golden armor? At least, no one like that apart from him came to her mind. "O' Earth Goddess, hear your child's plea…"

Originally, the word 'Cybele' wasn't native from the current era of Greece. She came from Anatolia, far to the southeast from Colchis, beyond Shirō's first golden queen's territory. Far, far older than most deities, going back to the era of Velber as one of its first victims, her teachings became one of the backbone of the Protogenoi of Greece as her followers migrated westward after their pantheon's destructions. This was one of the data packs Zeus used to create Athena without the act of consummation, as well as the one she used to 'birth' Medusa and her sisters as well.

From the earliest stone manifestations of her figure, to the Mystic Eyes of Petrification pushed to the highest limit in Medusa's current form. This line of history was certainly steeped in Mystery and Conceptual Weight, and thus difficult to control, even with Athena's impromptu seal on the young girl's forehead when she was young.

Worse, Blood Fort Andromeda was still active, and it took all of Medusa's countenance to not direct its viciousness on her new family. That's why she panicked quickly when Cybele went berserk, because she could feel her control was slipping for both of these weapons, and an uncontrollable blade was useless for everyone.

Kibisis
~ Bag of Barrier Inversion ~

The strange, alien-to-Medusa magic characteristic entered from the tips of Shirō's fingers inside her, through the pores on the surface of her armor and skin – because the two were essentially the same, just as an exoskeleton and endoskeleton of an evolved creature – and passing via her the various Magic Cores inside her. Finally, it settled around the magical pathways around her orbital bones, softly covering Cybele like a childhood blanket or a beloved home curtain.

A red tribal lettering flashed brightly on her forehead, interacting and working together with this new insertion, before Medusa finally felt the overwhelming pressure bursting forth from inside her subside: from her core near the navel, to the vital point at her heart, to the control hub in her brain, and finally the out-of-control eyes.

Was the Mystic Code handed to Perseus in the past capable of restraining Cybele's full might like this? Of course not.

However, all of those problems depended greatly on the people who wielded them. In an amateur's hands like Perseus's, perhaps he would've succeeded in facing a mindless beast, where luck played a greater factor than in fighting against an intelligent and experienced opponent. Additionally, the array of Mystic Codes he received – which later would evolve into Noble Phantasms – were mostly autonomous anyway, in term of operating them to their maximum potential.

Unfortunately, that wasn't enough for the current Medusa.

Reinforcement. Alteration. Projection.

…and, finally, Reality Marble's 'creating the impossible'.

Simply the basics. Several of the first Mysteries a magus would've been taught as a child.

…well, alright. Not the last one, because that would entail a truly horrible childhood, one enough to warp an innocent soul into something capable of producing a Reality Marble. But, yet again, not impossible to learn easily and quickly, if one had the right… aptitude.

Unlimited Blade Works wasn't supposedly able to create its own original weapon at the level of a Noble Phantasm. By its very nature, it's steeped in not only the quality of their creation, but also the experience they were used under and the imprinted soul of its owners. Therefore, only things without a 'soul' could be created from parts of the blueprints collected inside a Reality Marble, making them simply over-powerful Mystic Codes.

However, that was [Infinite Sword Creation]. EMIYA's signature Noble Phantasm, as well as 'Shirō Emiya's' prized Magecraft.

This was [Boundless Phantom Forge], where spirits and graveyards lie, regrets and dreams rampaged, along with ideals and aspirations soaring high, creating the ground, sky, and scenery in it.

The seven steps of [Tracing], the Magecraft Medea had just learned, was also deconstructed into much smaller components, enabling its user to manipulate and mix the required steps to achieve the optimum product. There's always a negativity cast upon forgeries, even when it's practically better than the original because of its cheaper and faster production methods, and exactly the same quality-wise. Of course, the sentimental value of a one-of-a-kind object far exceeded a readily-available object, and this was actually the bone of contention between Gilgamesh and SHIRŌ – not the fact he could copy her entire treasury so easily.

Kibisis, naturally, was no longer the strangely-simple sack which held the concept of an anti-sealing, mirror-like Bounded Field. In this world where Breaker Gorgon still didn't exist, Shirō had to create a makeshift stopper for this evolved version of Cybele, which only the fully-matured Gorgon could wield. Yes, Athena's blood seal already did a magnificent job, even now, because without it, Medusa would've already lost her mind the instant she consumed those two crystallized virgin blood gems, going berserk and annihilating everything which moved around her.

Could he create a Mystic Eyes Killer with everything he had and under the pressure they're in now? Among Atalanta's and Medea's concerned stares… he'd admit he couldn't. in fact, even if he was given all the time and support in the world, it's unlikely he'd be able to produce something as good as the one the Medusa 'Shirō Emiya' knew wore after the Fifth Holy Grail War, or the creation of Aoko Aozaki, one of the last remaining modern Magicians, for her beloved student.

So, the answer was 'no'.

But, because Medusa was right here in his arms, with her intense smell filling his nose to the point of numbness and headache, he had to do something.

Again: Reinforcement. Alteration. Projection.

Those were the only three spells 'Shirō Emiya' knew, and so did everything SHIRŌ was made of.

From those three, the best suited to modify something as powerful and mystical as Kibisis, which was a weapon of the gods, was Alteration. Reinforcement was only useful on imperfect objects, and one steeped with Mysteries like Kibisis – something specifically created to kill a world-ending catastrophe such as Gorgon – had very little room of improvement apart from creating a Broken Phantasm.

Projection? Well, that and Tracing were the final steps, and thus lack the modifying power their preceding steps had. While a sufficiently strong mind could Project another attribute into an already-existing object, it's far too inefficient to do so. In fact, Projection in its natural state was practically useless for Magecraft above a certain level – which was why Shirō himself stuck with Tracing.

He disagreed with Rin Tōsaka on many things, but this insult was something he couldn't find a rebuttal to, when she criticized the lack of ability in 'Shirō Emiya' when they were young.

"Astral Phantasm."

With those two words, Kibisis's information data was pulled out of Unlimited Blade Works, where the original was stored after taking them from Perseus's hands… and taken apart. Instead of each singularity creating a similar planar, then constructing a spatial form where a 'soul' could be inserted… the other way around was done. To take apart its Mysteries layer by layer, discarding what's useless and retaining what's useful, to strip everything down and create an overspecialized item of a different attribute, birthed from the original, but far stronger in one aspect.

Just like 'Shirō Emiya' before him, in regards to the [Sword].

Kibisis's original sack tore itself apart at its magical seams, before reconstructing itself into a neck choker. The latter in itself held an intricate piece of violet blindfold with a pair of anchor points either side of the neck, which summarily slapped onto Medusa's still-scorching eyes.

Heroic Vessel's SHIRŌ's version of Breaker Gorgon.

Was it perfect? Absolutely not. Functional? Very well yes.

"It seems I wasn't necessary."

"Of course not. You never are," Atalanta pointed out rudely to Chiron, who simply laughed awkwardly.

Not because he's finding her barbs particularly funny, but because his assistants and underlings glared at her fiercely for those words, however true. Of course, there's plenty of personal enmity between the two which couldn't be shared to these people, so misunderstandings like these should be waved off like a casual banter, lest they'd invite more trouble than its worth.

Were her words meaningful? In a way, yes. The position of the Adventurers' Guild Master could be held by any seasoned administrator, who's completely neutral and capable of negotiating between any two opposing parties. This, many people had similar attitudes to Chiron. With these traits, one could even conceivably expand the organization in a similar manner and speed compared to him. Managing difficult people was the prerequisite of being a leader, and thus more than one person could sensibly do that as well.

Additionally, every good thing he did only heightened his reputation instead of his race, which meant centaurs still had the ugly history circulating around. That was simply how horrible they were to other people, and the way they lived was completely incompatible with the current era.

And while it's unreasonable to expect the Guild's response force to come far faster than what they achieved just now to the scene of the battle, that wouldn't be what the public saw, and what the victims would desire. More so that the latter was Atalanta, who's renowned for her difficult personality.

"That's enough, Atalanta." A hand rubbed her head rather strongly, to which she purred publicly without any embarrassment. Shirō's face showed up from behind her, incredibly serious. "Instead of lambasting him, you should milk him for repair damages by playing along his guilt."

"That's not helping!" The centaur howled, glaring at the S-Ranker, while his underlings from before snickered behind him. "Don't listen to him, Miss Atalanta! And all of you; stop laughing!"

Even Medusa and Medea were giggling nearby.

Speaking of the former, she's… shrunk.

Back to her original size, she's comfortably sitting inside Atalanta's lap, being hugged just as fiercely as the past. While she was uncomfortable with the forceful way she did it back then, their time together had drawn them closer together and truly cementing the concept of 'family' in their heads. Thus, while it's not ideal, she's quite alright being used as a hug pillow once again.

Such was her adorable appearance Medea was eager to get her turn, but Atalanta's palm stretched out and pushed her face away to delay the inevitable – Shirō's quiet statement for them to switch places.

It's hardly surprising, considering the sudden growth spurts she's been experiencing lately. Any positive movements would often be balanced with the negatives, and from the amount of energy she's expanding with her latest stunt, a drawback was inevitable. It's already fortunate she's not injured in any way, and only reverted back to her original size after such a tough battle.

Shaking his head, Shirō stepped towards Chiron with sympathy in his eyes, before patting him on the shoulder. "I have some things to take care of. If anyone from Arcadia's royal family came, just direct them to their current rightful ruler."

"SHIIIIIIRŌŌŌŌŌŌŌŌŌŌŌŌ!" Atalanta protested, but her husband only shot her a meaningful smirk and wandered off somewhere, much to her fuming.

Medea took the opportunity to wrestle the tired Medusa from her laps and into her own hug, their closeness in size making a more comical and endearing sight than the veteran huntress.

Chiron could only sigh wearily at the problems now dumped onto him. 'Clean-ups are the worst…'

Indeed, looking around, there's not much left of the famous Arcadian forest anymore. While Atalanta took the precaution to evacuate most of the local creatures in the early stages of the battle, inevitably, there's also a substantial amount of beast corpses lying around. The divine sacrifice of a boar which facilitated the attack laid near the huntress, its soul already ascended to Artemis's side to fulfil its original role, and its carcass cleaned and processed by the time Chiron and his people arrived.

He could feel Atalanta weakening because of this, the Domain granted to her by Artemis being razed to the ground, though she looked as fierce as ever to the large amount of outsiders gathered around for the clean-up jobs.

There's always something to be salvaged after such a destructive battle, chiefly because there's almost no irregularly-shaped debris around. A large-scale combat like this would produce finer and flatter areas, where area-of-effect spells and attacks were prevalent, easing the excavating duties. The wood shrapnel could always be processed into charcoal, while the tilled ground was suitable for replantation immediately because of the lack of extreme heat used in their battle against Ars Theurgia. For instance, lightning and infernal Magecraft would've scorched the land into glass, requiring any remodeling to scrape off all of those to reveal the useable topsoil again.

And… just as the redhead predicted, a royal convoy could be spotted in the distance, easier due to the reopened landscape.

Led by a familiar face – the one who got kicked to the Adventurers' Guild's wall by Atalanta the first time they met, in fact, they quickly spread around and prostrated themselves to her.

Knowing what their intentions were, Chiron went away to concentrate on the final touches to secure the area and prevent any untoward actions which seemed to always follow these kinds of events. Last time, Atalanta dumped all the public relations after that event, so he'd get his revenge any way he could get.

"Not sticking around to watch the rest of it?" I ask the woman, who has her back turned towards me.

She's far slighter than I expect, with a body not much bigger than Medusa's current form. It's unfortunate I didn't have the time to check on them after rushing here from Athena's domain, given my wives were just involved with the greatest battle in their lives where I wasn't there. A victory against this incomplete tome would do their mentality good, after being trashed around by Poseidon as soon as Medea's power faded.

Of course, a sense of relief washed over me the moment I saw their tired but proud faces after I calmed Medusa down from a form even I haven't seen.

"Your penchant of using jokes to start conversations is already an outdated trick," Pandora immediately shoots back without looking at me. "You should use a more confrontational attitude against someone like me. Take it as an advice from a senior."

"I refuse."

What does she expect, really?

"Shame. I was looking forward to fighting you for Ars Theurgia's core, but this time, I'll let you have it."

Her casual tone causes me to narrow my eyes, as Od floods both of our bodies.

We're currently some way away from the scene of Ars Theurgia's battle against my wives. Apparently, Pandora arrived around the same time as me, but chose to observe from afar instead of supporting one of her supposed 'children', allowing me to collect its remains and seal it back into tome form. It's surprisingly intact, showcasing my women's lack of raw ultimate power and lethality when compared to me, Herakles, or Hecate, to the point Medusa needed to take that gamble despite not being ready for it.

So, why? If she's there, at the very least, she could safeguard Ars Theurgia from Alaya's hands. There's no way I could stop her while protecting Atalanta, Medea, and Medusa at the same time.

There's also her words earlier…

"What game are you playing?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Finally, she turns towards me, enabling me to see the glowing azure runes carved into her skin in a tribal geometric pattern.

It eerily mirrors my crimson sword-links whenever I unleash my full power… though that, too, is somewhat predictable.

In a way, she's my older sister, after all.

"…or do you want me to engage, anyway?"

"Be my guest. I'm not worried about a defective product's taunts," I speak out some bravado, but she doesn't take the bait.

"First, jokes… and now cheap shots? How unimaginative of you…" Her tiny body, no more than the size of a pre-teen, shimmers with power and killing intent. "How about we have a race? Of speed, of course…"

I tense my body imperceptibly.

"…which one is faster? Your Knight Arms, or mine? Your Reality Marble, or mine? Who can kill the other party first while also protecting what they hold precious?" Her childish face contorts with a dreadful grin, adding, "Isn't that a worthy contest between the two of us?"

I realize something, and immediately close my eyes along with activating my Pure Eyes at the same time.

Normal vision is unnecessary at this moment – merely a distraction. Trust my mystical senses and battle-honed instincts…

"That's a very well-made doppelganger," I admit after several moments. "If you want a contest, then use your actual body first before you talk."

To create a physical object well enough to fool me… Is this her ability? Derived from her skill to 'birth' creatures like her five tomes?

This doll in front of me certainly have enough Conceptual Weight to fool anyone without my abilities. Just like how I'm able to create swords indistinguishable from the originals, or even better, so too she has reached this pinnacle of body-creation.

She was the first human, soaked in the Authority of [Creation] from her 'father', Hephaestus, as well as Zeus's verbal permission and order. In this era, spoken words hold so much more power than in modern times, and with those said by a chief deity, their weight was far beyond any strongest geas created by modern Magecraft.

This was the potential Alaya saw in her when she first decided this newborn girl was to be the next Heroic Vessel after the previous failed attempt. Unfortunately, all Heroic Vessels retain their personalities and quirks, simply because of our very nature and tasks… and Pandora's were found to be incompatible with what Alaya has wanted.

She can't let go of her hatred and envy towards everything and everyone around her, getting drunk on her own power – ironically just like those she loathes the most – thinking she can and should change everything she dislikes just because she has the ability to do so.

What a contradiction. Such a description usually merits an instinctual person, whose logic and common sense are predictable because they're simple… and not this scheming individual in front of me, smiling as if she's the most pitiable creature in the world.

Which isn't far from the truth, for those who only know her story and not her personality. Perhaps the original Pandora, one from my previous deployment into this era, is exactly that: a victim.

This one definitely isn't.

She notices my line of thought, using the exact same technique I use to worm my way towards my wives' heart: the Heroic Vessels' ability to empathize with others by virtue of their initial emptiness.

My mistake. I allow my deeper thoughts to reach the surface, where I should know she can read these easily.

Unlike me, who surround myself with loving partners and supportive colleagues – and I'm including Herakles in that list – she had the misfortune to be around perhaps the two most dysfunctional deities in the current Greek pantheons, which I personally think contributes to her current personality. In fact, it was a surprise to me the previous time I was here, because I am a firm believer of 'nurture' versus 'nature'.

I mean… look at me.

It's a wonder the 'other Pandora' turned out to be a sweet girl… not that I've met her or anything. Her existence and role didn't overlap with my time there, as she became one of my disciples' partner instead.

"If that's all, then, I'll see you soon."

That's the parting line she chooses, before she cuts off support for this doppelganger and let it dissipate into nothingness, leaving me with the urge to grit my teeth loudly at my surroundings.

She's correct. I made a mistake earlier for not noticing she's fake – and, thus, harmless – and another when I let my thoughts become available to her.

Two false moves. Enough to put everyone I hold dear in danger, especially with someone of her caliber. If that was the real one, instead of a doppelganger, then any engagement would go by faster than any attempt from me to protect the others. I might be able to erase her at the same time, but that would only be a pyrrhic victory.

Fortunately, before my frustration boils to the point of accidentally destroying Ars Theurgia, Alaya summons me to the shared grey room to collect it.