A Demon King's Affection

by Xeno95

The world had abandoned her. Humanity had betrayed her. The Gods were laughing from their high seats. She had not been broken. Not yet. As long as her hero stood by her side.

2. Chapter 2

A/N: Oh hey. It's back. Honestly, I didn't expect this super rare crossover to get any sort of attention at all. I guess I was wrong. You guys thought this fic was over, didn't you?

A bit of warning because this author's note is gonna be a bit long.

Well, I did consider putting this off as a one-shot. This story started out as a passing muse that got a bit too interesting. I wanted to see if anyone else thought this was an interesting idea. Turns out there were fans of both Rance and Fate series that were more than a bit intrigued. This story is still gonna be relatively short but worry not. Since the beginning I already knew how the continuation of this story goes. Buckle up. It's not gonna be a long ride, but it's gonna be a wild and bumpy one.

Let's get to the two main characters of this story. Starting with Gele. I wondered how many of you knew of her backstory. I was honestly surprised there were only a few comments mentioning her. Then again, Alicesoft did a bad job introducing such an important character to the lore. She only appeared in Rance 3 and briefly mentioned in 6 and X. Quite the injustice for such an interesting character in my opinion. Did you guys know that in the original series she was said to enslave humanity for exactly 1027 years? The Alicesoft wiki and comments had some nasty things to say about her. I don't agree with them though. Her character is not easily labeled as black or white, good or evil. I thought she had some shades of similarities with Eren from Attack on Titan. Her 1027 years of tyranny was humanity shooting themselves on the foot. Girl was already mind broken when she was turned into the Demon King. As if that wasn't enough, she was sealed for more than a millennium only to get raped again by a stupid green man and then sealed AGAIN. Poor girl couldn't catch a break.

Hey, if I had my limbs and tongue cut off, raped, and then left to die after dedicating my life's work to those same people, I would have quite the grudge myself. Putting it mildly of course. Her actions were wrong, but I understood why she did it. It's a matter of perspective.

Also, did you guys find similarities with the original Gele and Sakura from FSN? I know I did. You know, being rape victims and the host to all the world's evil and all. I thought Angra Mainyu and Demon King's blood's lore shared some interesting aspects. It was what nailed the coffin for me that Shirou would 120% try to save her, hence this story.

Onto Shirou. You guys probably noticed that this is Miyuverse Shirou from Prisma Ilya because of last chapter. I really considered using the UBW/HF version of him instead. I decided against it because this version of him fits this story best. It helped me justify the decisions he makes later, and his relationship with Gele would not be possible in any other route. Some of you may not agree. But well, can't satisfy everyone.

This chapter will be from Shirou's perspective. We're going to the aftermath of last chapter. More information dumps, but slightly more light-hearted (not really). I wanted to dive more into the rest of the cast. By the way, Kesselring and Warg (cough she's not in Gele timeline cough) is my two favorite Dark Lord. How about you guys? I hope some of you find Shirou's interactions with these extra characters at least somewhat interesting. This chapter is for you who are not familiar with the Ranceverse and for fans of both series. Writing this one was a blast. I tried to stay true to the original lore as much as possible.

Spoiler warning on the last bit.

A final rant. Did any of you find the ending of Rance X rushed? I played the game in full Japanese because I can read it and I know the translated version is not released yet. Some of you probably know that the final battle was between Kayblis and Rance. That scaredy cat Kay-chan and adult Kazuma from Konosuba (yes, it's a meme I know). Seriously Kayblis is only a Dark Lord. They're replaceable. Also, Demon King Rance is a horde of bullcrap. He was only an excuse for Alicesoft to end the game early. Amazingly fun game though. I alluded this in the last chapter, but the real villain of Rance world was never the Demon King or the Dark Lords. If you guys read the lore for the Ranceverse, I'm positive most of you will agree. What, did the Gods of that universe just decided to pack up and leave? Did Rance use his EX-rank luck to kill them off from the plot or something? Oh yeah, he did. Stupid space whale god. Dammit Alicesoft.

Some terms from Ranceverse for those not familiar:

-Blood Soul: What's left after a Dark Lord dies. Can be used to resurrect the dead Dark Lord.

-Kalar: An all-female race isolated in the Continent. Has a valuable red/blue jewel on their forehead. Subject to slavery and killing by humanity.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except this story.

(Part 1)

Shirou really didn't know what to think about being thrown into an alternate reality. A reality where Gods still existed and phantasmal species ran rampant. A reality with Angels, Devils, and mythical Monsters. A reality with weird creatures and comical clay statues shouting 'Haniho!' as they build temples worshipping various indecent parts of the female form. A reality where girls cosplaying in weird outfits straight out of a bad 18+ fetish magazine were labeled as 'Gal Monsters' and said girls were considered as actual Monsters, subjecting them to slavery and perversion by male humans and Monsters alike.

The Magus had to personally confirm the last two points. He had to make sure he wasn't dreaming either when he did. Shirou would rather fight Gilgamesh-imbued Angelica ten times over than to deal with the headache that inevitably came. No amount of forcing his forehead against a stone wall was enough to erase the memory. He remembered Gele once asked him why he came home with a bleeding forehead.

Did he also need to mention that he had died once?

There was a famous saying back in the Clocktower. Every Magus within the institution knew that when everything goes horribly wrong in a very weird way, only one person was responsible.

The saying goes:

"Fuck Zelretch," he nodded at his own words, certain that it was an appropriate thing to say.

Dark Lord Emiya they called him. It was like one of those video games Miyu forced him to play with her back in the days. Only this time, he wasn't playing as the hero but rather one of the final bosses. Another cruel mockery of his father's dream no doubt. He couldn't help but sigh at his own unfortunate circumstances.

Emiya Shirou had died. He was turned in and hanged by the very people he saved. He accepted his death, satisfied thinking that he at least had saved the girl he was indebted to. That sweet, kind girl who dedicated her life to save humanity. That curious, intelligent girl who forced him to be her assistant. The girl he had yet to completely save. The girl turned Demon King.

Gele.

Shirou could hear the chirp of birds as he felt a sudden shift. He was still on his bed, he noted. His body felt the soft comfort of pillow and bed sheets. There was also a warm, soft sensation on his arm. When he turned to look, he was met with a girl with long, dazzling, bluish white hair. The girl was using his arm as a makeshift pillow. He could hear the small, soft pants of her breath as her sheet-covered body heaved up and down.

The Magus couldn't help but smile as he brushed away the strands of hair from the girl's face. Staring at the girl, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight. Fair white skin without a hint of blemish. Long, alluring white eyelashes and soft lips. When Shirou first met Gele, he thought that she was a beautiful girl. Now, as a Demon King, she was still beautiful. Her transformation had caused her arms and legs to be marked with dark, uncanny tendrils of darkness. Weirdly enough, this did not detract her previous allure. In fact, her beauty went up from a 'stunning beauty' to an 'impossibly unnatural beauty'. Perhaps another nail to the coffin for the fact that the girl was no longer human.

"…Mmm. Shirou…" the girl muttered in her sleep. Her sudden movement caused the only barrier that protected her decency to slid off. The sight quickly turned from 'endearing' to 'dangerously erotic'.

Shirou shook his head to rid himself of worldly desires. Now was not the time. He softly nudged the still sleeping girl. "Gele. It's time to wake up."

A couple of seconds passed by and yet no response from the girl. The Magus decided to just leave the girl to her slumber a little longer and to start preparing for the day.

That was, if he could even leave the bed. For some reason, the girl's soft grip on his left arm never loosened. He tried putting more strength to it, but to no avail. Not even a slight budge.

Sometimes he forgot about how much stronger the girl had become.

"Gele. I know you're awake," the man called out with a sigh. He noted that when the girl had become the Demon King, one particular trait stood out the most: the girl stuck to him like a glue. Especially in private. In fact, he recalled that the only times they were not together were when she had to fulfill her duties as the ruler of Monsters or when she had important research to finish. Those times were few. Basically, she became clingy.

He tried reinforcing his arm to break free. As expected, not even a slight budge. Very clingy, he noted. His only solace was that this was not an everyday occurrence.

An idea popped in his mind. Desperate times calls for desperate measures. It wasn't a technique he was proud to use, but beggars can't be choosers.

He dragged his body back towards the bed and slid over to the girl. He inched closer until he reached the girl's nape. "If you don't wake up…" he slowly whispered, his breath hitting the girl's skin. He could tell from the way the girl's neck turned crimson that it was working. His head slowly crawled to her exposed ear.

"I'll bite you." And so, he did.

"Hyaaahn!" a startled but somewhat erotic scream resounded.

And just like that, he was free. He would have felt smug satisfaction at the accomplishment if not for the baleful stare he was receiving from the crossed girl.

"Shirou… you know I'm weak over there," the girl growled in a tone laced by half anger and half embarrassment. Perhaps anger at having lost the battle and embarrassment at letting out a shameful voice.

He merely shrugged in vain ignorance. "Maybe you can stop pretending to be asleep then. We have a busy day ahead."

The girl huffed in indignation. "…Hmph! I'll get you back next time," she muttered, her eyes promising untold mischief. "What's so important about today, anyways? We're just dealing with some nuisances," she muttered once more as her finger twirled against her pale locks.

"…Gele. You know today's meeting is important," the Magus reminded. The two of them did decide after all that today's event was a necessary one for their many plans to come. He simply didn't expect to know that to the girl, spending more time with him was more important than whatever plans they had for the rest of the day.

He felt two pairs of arms circle his neck from his back. The Magus felt a head cradled on his shoulder and a soft, bouncy sensation of bare skin pressed against him. Apparently, the girl turned ruler had already moved away from her original position from their bed towards him. "Good morning, Shirou," the girl said as she pecked his right cheek.

"Good morning, Gele," he replied as he returned the gesture.

Though that may have been the wrong move. Shirou felt a wave of migraine coming when she began nibbling on his ears and her hands started to drift somewhere inappropriate. "But I think we have a bit of time before we start the day. Let's say… half an hour?"

Alas, having a Demon King as a Master proved to be quite an ordeal for the Magus. It was going to be a long day.

(Part 2)

When Shirou finally managed to escape the room, he immediately descended the stairs to the cabin's living room. When he did, he was met with the familiar sight of a tanned man with a mop of curly green hair. The man's body was adorned with uncanny tribal markings. His torso was bare, and the Magus could clearly see a big hole gaping from it. The man was sitting on one of the chairs near the dining table. He was also accompanied by three other similarly familiar figures. They could have been passed off as humanoid had it not for their bestial appendages.

Dark Lord Galtia. The Lord of Beasts. A fellow Dark Lord.

"Yo. Did you have a fun time?" The man called out with a knowing grin.

Shirou opted to ignore the sight and proceeded into the kitchen. He did however, sighed in defeat as if the sight was a normal occurrence. "Galtia. Again? Oh, good morning you three," he greeted the three figures near the green-haired man. Galtia's Apostles he noted.

"Lord…Shirou…Good…Morning…" Launea, a silent, dark-haired Arachne.

"Pi~" Samezan, a weirdly cheerful Harpy with sharp talons.

"Morning-ki~" Thalgo, a furred girl with beastly appendages and a monkey's tail.

Three of Galtia's Apostles. Their docile appearance belied their status as few of the strongest creatures in the Continent. They greeted him back with excited, fervent stares.

"Obviously. I did get permission from her Majesty to come here after all. Speaking of which, where is she?" the man inquired as his curious stare pierced the Magus' back.

"She's taking a bath. She'll be here in a few more minutes," he answered as he prepared several tools and a large frying pan from the pantry. The Magus took a nearby apron and tied it firmly to his front. "You know, I seem to recall you have an army of chefs somewhere in the castle. Why do you need to come here every chance you get?" he asked in exasperation.

Surprisingly, it was not the green-haired Dark Lord who responded.

"Lord Shirou's…cooking is…divine…" the usually silent Arachne pointed out. Shirou turned to stare at the girl with spider limbs only to find her fellow Apostles Samezan and Thalgo nodding enthusiastically.

"Pii~"

"The best, ki~"

Shirou wondered where they got their vigor from. Supposedly Galtia's Apostles were made by a collection of Insects.

Some Monsters were born with a Soul; it was not exclusive to humanity. All Monsters that originated from the womb of the four Holy Gal Monsters possessed one.

…The Magus decided to ignore the stupidity of the absurd sounding name the world had decided on the progenitor of Monsterkind and proceeded to continue his thought. Gele had not been lying to him when she said this world was messed up.

Insects were born from the leftover product of Souls to create Monsters. In essence, they were a Monster without a Soul. Galtia was an ancient Insect User from more than a millennia ago. An Insect User stores and tames a multitude of Insects to fight in their stead. Launea, Samezan, and Thalgo were an amalgamation of the thousands of Insects that Galtia had stored over the centuries. The Magus was not sure how, but those three were able to get sentience after centuries of being with the Dark Lord. It was a mystery even his Master could not solve.

Where did he store them, you may ask?

Apparently, An Insect User possessed a separate Hyperspace within their body. Like that gaping hole sticking out of Galtia's torso. That man stored his Insects within it. He had seen his three Apostles crawling back in and out of that dark abyss. Apparently, it leads to a separate space beyond the Continent.

Some things needed to be seen to be believed. The Magus nearly popped an eyeball when he personally witnessed it at the fellow Dark Lord's offer.

Dark Lord Galtia was a bonafide Reality Marble User like himself. An extremely experienced one at that. And there was a tribe full of these people back in the days if the green-haired man's history was true.

"You heard the girls. Also, the chefs back in the Demon King's castle cooking are nowhere near as good as yours. I can't really go back to eating anything else after I tasted your cooking, Shirou," the man said with a grin as he leaned back to a more comfortable position.

"You should think about giving me a proper warning next time you're coming or else I'm not cooking for you anymore," he quipped back.

That proved to be an effective response as the Magus was met with several loud banging of chair and panicked movements. Before he realized it, he felt something clinging to his leg, sides, and back. They moved so fast he didn't even register that they were already on him.

"No! Please, our lord and savior Shirou! Don't take away our only enjoyment in this dull, immortal existence! We'll repent our ways!" The man, clearly the one hanging by his leg, cried as panic and despair rapidly filled his visage.

"Piiiiii!"

"Have mercy, kii!"

"Lord Galtia…stupid…will warn…next time…"

The trio to both his sides and his back pleaded in a similarly pitiful tone.

Shirou didn't know whether to be proud or appalled at the fact that a Reality Marble User older than a millennium was so enslaved by his culinary crafts he would resort to groveling. The same goes for his Apostles of cute, if not weird anthropomorphic girls.

At least they were wearing clothes this time around. Clearly, his harmless threats of the past were working as intended.

"Fine. Now get off me so I can start prepping the ingredients."

He had a lot of mouth to feed, after all.

(Part 2.5)

When Gele arrived at the table, Shirou had already finished setting up the plates. The wooden furniture was filled to the brim with dishes from Shirou's original world. That was to say, from an onlooker's perspective the table was filled with exotic dishes. From the Magus' point of view, he was only cooking as per usual. The Continent did have similar ingredients to his old world after all. Minus the couple of new, weird ingredients he had declined to ever use in his culinary craft. Like that dreaded Hanny rice Gele used to feed the kids back in the orphanage. Each individual grain of rice looked like a miniature version of the clay Monster, and he could have sworn they were whispering 'Hanihos" as they were lifted by a spoon. He shuddered at the old memory.

The sharp pain on his side followed soon after.

"You were thinking something rude just now, didn't you?" The pale white-haired beauty beside him accused with a small frown.

The Magus once again sighed in defeat as he lamented at his unfortunate history of dealing with violent members of the opposite sex. Even Miyu wasn't exempt from this.

He prompted to ignore the girl's glare and focused on his fellow seated Dark Lord who had already proceeded to consume the plates in front of him. The same could be said for the Insect User's three Apostles who matched their Master's vigor. They were eating so fast he began to wonder where they were storing all that food away. Did the man just dump everything inside his Reality Marble? How about those girls? Where were they putting those food in those slim, anthropomorphic bodies? Alas, he decided to stop thinking about the mysteries of the entities in front of him and cut straight to the chase.

"Galtia. How did the visit go?" He asked the voracious Dark Lord.

The question caused the man to momentarily pause. His nonchalant expression turned more focused. "There were no problems on my end. There was a bit of struggle from the opposing side though. Don't worry about it. I took care of it."

"Any news from Kesselring?"

"Yup. He finished his tasks too. There weren't any complications from his end. The man's rep doing wonders no doubt," the Dark Lord informed as he resumed to eat.

The Magus nodded in affirmation. That was good news. He expected them to struggle a bit, which they did from the looks of it. Galtia was never one to lie about these things. The gluttonous Dark Lord was not the most dutiful of their ranks, but he was good at his job.

"So can we expect them to send someone soon?" He inquired once more.

"Yup. Within the next three days at the very least. Not like they have much of a choice to begin with," the Lord said after swallowing several more mouthful of the dishes before him. He then sent the Magus an inquisitive look. "Why did it have to be me though? There were plenty other Dark Lords available."

Shirou could only deadpan at his question. "…You really think it's a good idea to send any of them out as messengers of all things?"

He listed the other potential candidates in his head one by one. Camilla would sooner die then to become a mere messenger towards humans who she considered as lower than the dirt she stepped on. Sending Pi-R would merely complicate things because of the boy's unnecessarily infuriating personality. His scheming tendencies were not overlooked by the steel Magus. Kayblis was unpredictable and the hulking man was almost as bad as Camilla when it came to his hatred towards humans. Red Eye was… well, the Magus couldn't really send him when he was responsible for said Dark Lord's demise. Meglass was the final suitable candidate, but the insectoid was not much for conversation to begin with.

Galtia and Kesselring were the two best options they had, so they were chosen. Galtia was rather laid back and had no problems conversing with humans, and Kesselring cared too much for proper decorum and elegance to let his prejudice take over.

"Well, if you put it like that. Me and that old vampire never really cared much about human affairs to begin with. Too boring. Been here, saw that. We let the other Dark Lords do whatever they want and kept to ourselves. It was easier that way," the gluttonous Dark Lord said as he rubbed his chin, as if reminiscing the past.

"You and he went all the way back from the era of the third Demon King, correct?" The Magus probed as he tried to recall the information.

"Yup. Good old' Ssulal herself. A charming Master that one. Pretty sure you'd have gotten along with her too. Girl's too much of a peace lover even as a Demon King," he grinned at the memory. "Always conscious about her chest size though. Pretty sure her Majesty got her beat in that area."

The Demon King in question, who had not glanced away from her plate, merely snorted at her implied superiority compared to her predecessor. "Hmph. But of course," the girl proudly puffed her chest as she resumed back towards cutting the piece of sausage on her plate with her cutlery.

"You're just trying to butter her up so you can come here more often," he accused his fellow Dark Lord. This was after all, Gele's cabin. None of the Dark Lords could access this place without the Demon King's permission. Well, they could. It wouldn't end well for any of them though.

"Heh. Was I that obvious?" the green-haired man admitted as the man began to pick up more things onto his already empty plate.

Shirou reached for the cup of tea in front of him and took a small sip. His eyes drifted to the girl next to him. He did not miss how she had not said a single thing barring Galtia's mention of the girl's predecessor. Placing the silverware, he reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She seemed surprised, but not unhappy at the gesture. Her gaze shifted from her plate to him, and she gave him a reassuring smile. Her smaller hand squeezed back in reciprocity.

The older Dark Lord in the room whistled suggestively. "Whew! Is it just me, or is it getting hot in here?"

"Very hot uki~"

"Blazing… hot…"

The Magus felt his eye twitch at the intrusive comments and was about to make a pass about their chances on joining future meals but was interrupted by a sudden soft, feathery feeling on his other arm.

"Pi~" the Harpy chirped as she nudged at the empty plate next to her as she pressed the bulge of her clothes onto his arm, as if asking for seconds. The piece of clothing did little to prevent him from having an inkling of the soft flesh underneath.

The Magus couldn't even relish the pleasant feeling as within that instant, the atmosphere of the table turned a hundred and eighty and a distinct sound of snapped cutlery rang. The Dark Lord of Steel thought he heard the cracking of bones and bending steel as he grasped that yes, it was coming from his own body. To be exact, the appendage that was previously holding his Master's.

It a was feat to behold how swift the feathered girl's escape was. The same could be said for the other two Apostle as they immediately jumped into the dark abyss that was Galtia's torso. Their bestial instinct had warned them of the imminent danger that was soon approaching.

"Now now, your Majesty. Haven't you heard of the saying? Sharing is caring," his fellow Dark Lord quipped, unaware of his calling of his own demise.

When the fellow Dark Lord begged for mercy as he was denied entry from their cabin, Shirou could only nurse his abused appendage as he thanked the stars for Avalon and his enhanced regenerative powers.

He could have sworn his hand had turned to paste for a while there.

(Part 3)

Days flew and the Magus found himself in a giant hall. The throne room of the Demon King's castle was grand; its spacious walls were supported by giant stone pillars that did not fail to denote its history. Archaic paintings adorned the walls and every single ornament within it was of the highest pedigree. However, the dark walls of the fortress and the dim lighting of its interior gave it a rather melancholic feel to it rather than that of majesty.

Within this imposing space was a single throne. On that throne a girl sat. A girl with dazzling bluish-white hair, wearing a beautiful dress of black and white. Her hand supported her head as her arm was perched on the hard surface of the throne's arm and her closed eyes stipulated her lack of interest towards the upcoming event.

Standing tall across the towering pillars were the girl's direct subordinates. Her Dark Lords. The Demon King's loyal vassals.

To the far pillar near the entrance was a hulking giant. Behind the giant stood two small non-human children who occasionally peaked their heads from behind the giant's legs.

In his opposite stood a smaller, yet still imposing purple figure of an insectoid. He stood alone; his piercing red slits focused.

Leaning against one of the center pillars was a woman with furled wings. Her beauty did not lose out to the girl on the throne, certifying her position as the ruler of a long, nearly extinct phantasmal species. Her arms were crossed, and her eyelids hid the slit pupil underneath.

Across her was a silver-haired boy. Though his eyes were laden with dark circles, it was also filled with great intellect. Behind him were two female attendants: their puppet-like limbs proving their unnatural origins.

Closer to the throne were two giant pillars, each facing the direction of the throne's arms. Standing in front of one of its sides was a tanned green-haired man with tribal markings. The man slightly chuckled at the tense atmosphere as he bit into the piece of morsel in his hand. Three anthropomorphic figures surround him. Vigilant and ready.

On the other side was a well-dressed man in noble attire. His trimmed beard was immaculate, and his curly pale blonde hair flowed gracefully. On his forehead was a shining, pale blue jewel. The man radiated strength and elegance.

In this space where the strongest living creatures of the Continent gathered, Shirou stood. Donned with his favored armor and crimson shroud that enveloped his left arm and lower body, he stood tall beside the dark throne. His red bandana fluttered despite the air being still. In his hands, pointed towards the marble floor was a crimson sword; a blade that commanded respect and authority. It rested menacingly, ready to cut down its enemies.

He gallantly stood by his Master, the Demon King's side.

His eyes of steel remained focused on the sole doorway that connected this place to the outside world. His inhuman hearing could hear the footsteps that echoed beyond that barrier.

Then without warning, light began to seep out from the once closed giant door. A maid, one of Kesselring's Apostle the Magus noted, had led a group of people inside the grand chamber. A few of them wore expensive looking clothing, perhaps indicative of their positions of power within their homeland. Some donned a more scholarly attire, carrying tomes of knowledge. Many were dressed in both heavy and light armor, swords of no noteworthy origins strapped by their waists. One was a young man with a particularly interesting blade, the cape on the man's back fluttering as he strode forward. Shirou felt his eye narrow at the last bit. It was not courage. The young man's gait was laced with unjustified confidence border lining arrogance.

There was no place for hubris within these halls. The positions these people held meant nothing here.

The maid who led the entourage had long left to her Lord's side. The group stood in the center, their bodies still. Perhaps it was the gloominess of the atmosphere. Perhaps it was the amused stares of the figures against the pillars. Perhaps it was marvel at the sight of sheer beauty sitting on the throne. Perhaps it was the crushing pressure from the same figure that seemed so pure and incorruptible. Whatever it was, it paralyzed them, save for one, to their core.

"Humans. You have been granted an audience. The Demon King sits down before you," the noble gentleman with trimmed beard, Kesselring began. Then, a dark mist seeped out of the man's slim figure as his crimson eyes glowed menacingly. "Now, we ask you to adopt an appropriate posture. Bend the knee."

A few of them fell to their knees. Most, however, did not.

"G-Granted an audience?! You came to our lands and demanded that we come lest you unleash your Monster army on us! You forced us to come!" a slighted voice rang from within the group. It was the man with the gaudiest looking clothing. A ruler of a distant land perhaps.

"Hey now," Galtia, who had finished consuming the piece of morsel from earlier, began. "We did come in peace. We sent a message, and we left. What are you so mad about?" The tattooed man grinned, looking amused at the whole thing.

"YOU!" The gaudy man pointed his fat fingers. "You killed our best warriors and ate half of our stored rations!" The man's face, red from anger, twisted into a hateful glare. That glare soon died however when the three anthropomorphic Apostles behind the Lord of Beasts began to shift threateningly. Thalgo's growls echoed throughout the halls.

"Well. Consider it payment for the unwelcome surprise. You people were the one who poisoned your own supply and baited me into eating it. Not that I mind. I was merely reciprocating the kind gesture. Poison does give a bit of kick to my meals. It would be rude for me not to accept. As for your warriors…" the gluttonous Dark Lord only licked his lips at the memory. "They tasted decent. Tell them to lay off the fat though. I like my meals on the healthier side."

That seemed to have done the trick of silencing the gaudy looking man. Shirou didn't miss how the rest of the group's expressions paled even further. A few more fell to their knees.

The Magus' attention never left the young man that had entered the room. His steel gaze could easily see the intent behind every single one of the man's actions. Young and brash. The young man's line of sight screamed of his intent.

The young man, perhaps the sole reason of the group's yet unbroken will, strode forward without warning. So did Shirou. The young man seemed to have been startled at the speed the Magus had displayed. Shirou did not need to reinforce his body to deflect the man's attack; the attack which had obviously been directed towards the girl on the throne. All it took was a simple swipe, and the man was repelled.

Eyes wide in disbelief, the young man shook his head before he charged again. Shirou did not even need to use the blade on his right as he captured the incoming blade with his left appendage. There was a loud sound of resistance, but it was nonetheless a futile effort from the human. Sparks flew from his left appendage.

The sword the young man wielded may have been special. As it was, however, it had no effect on the Magus. Nor will it have any on the rest of their ranks, much less his Master. Not as it was at least. However, an assault towards his Master, no matter how futile, was not an offense he could overlook. Hence, he had to act appropriately.

The Magus started with the young man's fingers. A nameless sword flew at a speed beyond human comprehension as it bisected the unsuspecting limbs, crippling the man's sword hand. Before the man's sword had time to touch the marble floor, two other nameless blades formed and pierced the joints of the man's knee. The man's body, having not registered the pain yet, fell as its other still functioning hand tried to cushion its fall. That hand was soon pierced by Clarent, the sword he had been wielding since the very beginning of this 'audience'. The young man had come to adopt an appropriate kneeling posture, only missing a few limbs in the process.

The sound of steel hitting the ground, followed by the shrill cries of pain that followed soon after echoed. Everything had occurred within less than a second. An inhuman feat. Once more, the Magus was reminded of his non-human status.

The young man may have been the strongest within his entourage, but that was it. Inexperienced. Arrogant. Naïve. Weak. Not a threat to even the likes of Kayblis.

"Kneel," the Magus demanded, the finality on his tone final.

They kneeled, and he could hear the chattering of teeth and armor. Those who already kneeled bowed their heads even further. From a distance, he saw the looks of approval from the noble vampire and the Queen of Dragons. He could have sworn the hulking giant took a noticeable step backwards as the non-human children behind him protested. He also felt his Master's worried gaze, who had never once spared a glance at the intruding entourage. Perhaps it was the first turn of events that had had managed to capture the girl's attention.

Satisfied at the desirable outcome, the Magus returned to his position beside the throne. In his stead, the noble vampire began once more in the same tone he used when he first started.

"Humanity will dismantle their current chain of command and abide by the laws of the Demon King's make. Humanity and its nations will also agree to submit their prisoners who had violated said laws. They will be judged within the Demon King's discretion. In return, the Demon King, her subordinates, and the entirety of Monsterkind within our jurisdiction will not invade humanity," the vampire nobleman declared, the elegance of his tone never once leaving him.

It was not a request. It was an ultimatum. One that the entourage had no choice but to abide.

"D-Don't fuck with me! Who would agree to such a thing?!" The young man, who the Magus had crippled just moments ago, screamed as he tried in vain to stand. His previously dropped blade once again held by his remaining, fully fingered yet bleeding hand.

"My ancestor was the Hero Quetabuno! I was granted this holy blade by the Gods to slay the Demon King and stop her evil ways! We will save the world! You will not stop us!"

The Magus added foolishly idealistic and misguided to the list as he shook his head at the pathetic sight.

"And where is that hero now?" the Magus asked with derision laced in his tone. The steel-eyed Magus slowly approached the struggling man, Clarent still in his hand.

"Dead. Six feet under. During the Great Toll War. And you, crippled and bleeding. Defeated. Downed in less than a second. Kneeling before the very enemies you swore to slay."

The young man gritted his teeth in a mix of rage, shame, and pain. "So what?! Downed as I may, I am a Hero! My ancestor too! He was a Hero!"

Another traced sword, this time at the young man's remaining good hand. A short cry of pain, and even more blood spilled. The Magus leaned down and picked up the blade the man had dropped in his struggle to keep the pain from consuming him.

"Then let me tell you what history did not. That man you labelled as hero had opted to wait for half of humanity to die out before coming out with this sword. That was your ancestor. The one you worship with such fervent passion."

The Legendary Sword Escudo. The twisted blade of this world that empowers itself and its wielder depending on the remaining numbers of humans in the Continent. A depraved creation of the Gods the people of this Continent blindly worship. A blade that filled him with rage at its debased creation.

Confusion seemed to fill the young man's face, though it did not lessen the man's defiance. "You lie!"

The Magus shook his head once more at the man's denial. "The truth is often a bitter pill to swallow. Where was that man when dying villagers plead for his help? Where was he when brave soldiers fell one by one as they try to slow down the Monsters' advance? Where was he when members of my kind invade the battlefield and take countless more lives?"

Shirou did not let the man respond as he continued, "Visiting brothels. Drinking alcohol as he laughed merrily, surrounded by the female form. Enjoying the luxury his 'hero' status provided as he waited. Waited for more of his kin to die. Waited so he can pounce at the chance for glory. And when he did, he died. Barely accomplishing anything," the Magus finished, unrealizing that his frown had completely twisted into a snarl at the offending knowledge his Structural Analysis had provided. He threw away the accursed blade and it spun before it lied still, motionless.

The steel-eyed Magus had seen it. The history of the accursed sword was not a pleasant one. He felt disgust unlike anything he had ever felt at the twisted nature and history of the blade. To even entrust the accursed weapon in his realm was an insult to the countless blades which rested on it.

"Y-you…" the young man pointed with his bleeding, fingerless hand. A normal human would have fainted from shock, but for some reason the young man persisted. As if some force was preventing the young man from collapsing. The man's face, pale from blood loss was filled with shock. However, it was not the shock of self-criticism, but that of realization. "You were that nameless hero. The one who got sentenced to death by hanging," he trailed. "You were the murderer of that Empire! The hero who defected to Monsterkind! YOU! YOU ARE HUMANITY'S GREATEST TRAI-"

The crippled man never finished his statement as he was engulfed by a wave of pitch-black tar. No screams ever came out. No sound leaked. The darkness simply swallowed the man before vanishing as it melted into nothingness, leaving only the marble floor and bloodied carpet. There was silence.

"Know your place, filth. Any more unnecessary word from your mouths, and I'll rip out your tongues and let you choke on your own blood."

An authoritative, familiar voice. It was not her usual voice. It was darker, heavier, colder, and unfeeling. It was Gele, but at the same time not. It was the Demon King's. His Master. Her arms were stretched out at the direction the now-gone man stood. Wisps of dark power were leaking out from the girl like water from an open faucet. Her eyes promised untold violence at the trembling humans who kneeled before her. Pressure like no other filled the spacious halls. Whatever it was, it was malevolent, chaotic, and promised death. The chattering of teeth only furthered in its intensity.

And then, just as fast as it appeared, it was gone. The ruler of Monsters returned to her previous, relaxed posture as her visage was once again replaced with indifference. The effect of such a display however, was immense.

The humans shook with fear. Any trace of disobedience and resistance gone from their visage. The Lords and their Apostles bowed, respecting the absolute display of power.

"…T-T-The kingdom and the whole nobility of the South accepts this a-agreement," a trembling, scholarly man with spectacles leaked out. There was no nobility left in the man, as proven by the yellow puddle beneath his pitiable form.

"…JAPAN will accept this term of agreement," the sole beauty of the entourage resounded. Though her voice was clear, the Magus could still see the faint tremors that haunted the woman.

"The United Federation also accepts this agreement," a calm, deep voice from a helmeted figure in full body armour. Calm, but resigned.

Good, he thought. The easy part was done.

The Magus turned to signal the sole vampire in the area. Thankfully, the nobleman seemed to have been waiting for the gesture and immediately acted. The bearded vampire clapped his gloved hands, and several maid figures, as if waiting for their cues, succinctly delivered a piece of parchment to each of the kneeling figures. There was a single leftover, of course. Proof of the violent end that had occurred a just moments ago.

"...W-what is this, o gracious D-demon k-king and Lords, sir?" The gaudy man, who had clearly lost his previous fortitude, inquired. The man seemed to be trying his best not to pass out shock he received from the previous displays.

"A written Geas. A binding contract if you will," the Magus started. "You may take your time to read it. There are no hidden clauses. Our demands are and will stay the same," he crossed his arms as he explained.

"…What will happen if we do not agree to sign the contract?" The helmeted man in armour asked as he curiously stared at the piece of parchment.

"Hehehe… I don't suggest you do that, sir Head Commander of the United Federation. Or else you may find what happened to the Empire to transpire in your home country. Wouldn't want that to happen, do we?" Pi-R, who had been silent thus far until now, answered as he cackled in glee.

The silver-haired boy's statement dispelled any hopes for the representative of humanity to escape the binding contract. Because it was not a mere threat. It was a promise.

When Demon King Gele ascended to the throne as the ruler of Monsters, her first command was to destroy and to wipe out Opiros Empire from the face of the continent. The Empire that prided itself as humanity's greatest. Their strongest shield and their sharpest spear to spearhead the fight against the Demon King. The ordeal did not take more than a month. The Demon army had crossed the distance in half a month, and completely obliterated the capital of the Empire with the latter half. The Magus himself was part of the operation.

A single Dark Lord was enough to conquer a nation. Humanity did not have the means to kill even a single Dark Lord except through that accursed sword. The sword was powerless in normal conditions. A meaningless tool.

At that time, seven Dark Lords were deployed. The Demon King herself lead the assault.

There was no capture. There was no mercy. Every human life within that perimeter perished. Wiped from the face of existence. Turned to mere ash and rubbles.

And although the Magus did not relish the act and a greater part of the still human portion of him protested the act of massacre, he could and would not move against the wish of that girl. His only solace was that their ends were swift, and no more casualties stemmed from the incident.

Emiya Shirou did not hate humanity for what they did to him. He did not condemn them for their betrayal. However, the girl that brought him back to life on that day did.

Gele did it for him. Therefore, he could not allow her to dirty her hands. At least not alone. That was the decision he had come to make on the day he became one of her loyal vassals.

It was for that very reason he did not regret his actions.

"What will happen after we sign the contract?" This time, it was the JAPANese beauty who asked.

"Nothing," he simply answered.

"…Nothing?"

The Magus confirmed once more, "Nothing. We only expect you to fulfill your side of the agreement. Do so, and the Monster army will not invade. Humanity will get to keep their territories minus the ones we already occupied." He slowly advanced to the entourage.

"However."

He arrived at his destination. He stopped and stood tall in front of the entourage.

"The moment that you violate the contract," he began. He could hear the small hum of his circuits as an amount of Prana, incomparable to one he was capable of during his time as human, gathered. Sharp, pointed steel surrounded the entire entourage before they even had time to blink. Some of them were without names, while some with. All of them, however, were ready to draw blood at a moment's notice. Their sharp ends encroached slowly as he continued, "The moment that you do, I will know. And when I do, I will find you." Shrieks of fear resounded as eyes stared at the countless, approaching steel that permeated the air.

Perhaps the woman was curious. Perhaps she was trying to measure what they were dealing with. He knew for sure however, that she had come to regret her question.

"…And what will you do?"

The sword in his right hand shifted. Then it roared as energy poured out of it in the droves. It radiated an intense hate, as if it was asking him to slaughter the unworthy souls in front of him. The energy leaking out of the sword made for quite a horrendous sight; it looked like it was bathing in blood. It appeared to be asking for more. The pressure it emanated did not lose out to the one his Master had released moments before; perhaps emphasized by the very real, very tangible threat that was looming over their heads and in front of them. He lifted the Sword of Rebellion and pointed towards the woman's neck. He could see a drop of sweat slowly descending from her fair skin. The blade screamed in delight.

"…Then I will show each of you personally why I was granted the moniker Dark Lord of Steel; Supreme Dark Lord and right hand of the Demon King."

The encroaching steel descended, each of them missing flesh and pierced the marble floor beneath. The ringing of steel and screams echoed. All of them, including the woman in front of him, fell to the floor unharmed. None however, missed the knowledge that they had been millimeters away from their deaths. They stared at him with the same fear and despair they showcased when his Master had opened her lips. He could even hear the distinct sound of whimpers not only from the humans in front of him, but also from where the gluttonous Dark Lord was standing. The three bestial Apostles peaking their heads out from the dark abyss that was Galtia's stomach made for quite a comical sight. Even the green-haired glutton was looking at him as if he had grown a new head. It wasn't just the Lord of Beasts though as not even the man's fellow Lords were free from the shock. Except for the Demon King. The girl merely stared at him with a satisfied, knowing smile. The throne room became silent once more. He decided to put the final nail to the coffin.

"My swords have ended even the likes of Dark Lords when I was one of your kind. Now, I point my swords not towards them, but to you. Would you care for another demonstration?"

A small part of him thought that maybe Miyu's games had rubbed off on him more than he would have liked.

(Part 4)

Shirou sidestepped as a blur of purple passed by him. He took another step back as the purple blur immediately twisted its direction and accelerated further. It did not give him a chance to think; it was moving at a speed that no human could comprehend. Even as he yet dodged another blow, the thing never stopped to move as it now resorted to confuse him with literal afterimages. It was as if he was reliving the fight against Lancer. The thing before him was just that fast.

Had it been him from before; the him before he turned into a Dark Lord, he was sure he would have trouble keeping up even with Reinforcement. Unfortunately for his opponent, his enhanced physique and combat capabilities from his time as a human did not hold a candle to his current self. Shirou did not need to reinforce his eyes, nor did he need to reinforce his body to keep up. His natural state allowed him to do all that and more. That was simply how strong his body had become. Perhaps it would have been an unfair advantage had it been a normal fight, but he was not fighting anybody normal either.

The Magus was fighting a fellow Dark Lord after all.

The grip on the nameless sword in his hand tightened. The blur came, but he was prepared. Using the thing's momentum against it, the Magus countered with a somersault kick moments before impact. It proved to be very effective as the blur slowed down, and he could hear a small grunt of pain.

The Magus did not let go of this chance as five nameless swords formed from thin air and assaulted the staggering form. Two missed, and the thing had to deflect the last three with its carapace body. There were only a few milliseconds of opening, but it was enough. His blade was already pointed at the thing's neck.

"…I yield."

Shirou nodded at the admission of defeat. He allowed the sword in his hand to dissolve from existence as he offered his hand to the insectoid sprawled on the ground.

"Sir Meglass. Thank you for sparring with me. It was a good fight."

Dark Lord Meglass. The Speed Demon.

The insectoid before him nodded as it silently took his offered hand. When the fellow Lord finally managed to stand tall again, it responded, "…Think nothing of it. It was a good learning experience for me. Sir Shirou, your combat prowess is indeed terrifying."

The steel Magus could think of many different come backs for his fellow Lord's statement. It would have been difficult for him to reach the level of speed his fellow Lord had displayed even with the aid of his Reinforcement. His combat style did not rely on it, after all. However, the steel Magus decided to just let it go as he shook his head in denial. "No. I still have a long way to go if I want to achieve my goals. Sir Meglass, thank you once again for taking your time to help me polish my skills. You are quite the fighter yourself," the Magus complimented, fully meaning the words he had said.

The fellow purple Dark Lord fought with its overwhelming speed. However, Shirou could think of several ways the insectoid could do to improve his combat effectiveness. Perhaps he should introduce his fellow Dark Lord to a few other weapon types? A spear, a lance, or even a sword would do the fellow Dark Lord good if the insectoid took the time to learn how to use them. The insectoid's fighting style was not bad; relying on pure overwhelming speed was not a bad strategy. His attacks were strong, and his blows were solid. However, it was also crude and lacked refinement. In the first place, the insectoid's hard carapace was more suited as an armor than a weapon.

The purple carapace Dark Lord's strength was of course, undeniable. It eclipsed that of Pi-R and the insectoid would have made for more than a match to even the Queen of Dragons.

"…No. I am merely conveying my gratitude to the savior of my race."

The insectoid's statement brought the Magus out of his pondering as he blinked at the sudden shift of topic. He stared at the insectoid's red slits before shaking his head in denial. "Sir Meglass. I did not do anything. It was not me, but our King, who saved your race."

Shirou was surprised at how talkative the usually silent insectoid was being today. The insectoid always kept to himself. Always alone, never bothering with the rest of the Lords. Not even the boisterous Galtia could bring the insectoid out of his shell. Figuratively of course. Though he supposed out of the insectoid's peers, he was the one the purple carapace Dark Lord conversed with the most. Not that it meant much since the insectoid barely ever talked to start.

"That is not true, sir Shirou. Though it was her Majesty who granted this one access and permission to release the rest of the Horuses from their stasis, it was you who persuaded her. After thousands of years of confinement, my race has finally been freed from their prison. My beloved Queen along with them," the insectoid explained, his usual impassive tone laced with gratitude.

Dark Lord Meglass was of the Horus race. A race of insectoids from another planet that stranded into the Continent. They were a race of Otherworlders, just like he was. When he heard of their plight, he had asked Gele for her permission in the matter. They traveled to the northern part of the Continent, entered a weird ship that was reminiscent of old Sci-Fi movies from his old world, and entered the sealed chambers of the insectoid's imprisoned race.

The Horus continued, "Sir Shirou. I am a prisoner. I do not serve the Demon King out of my free will. The second Demon King, Avel, took my race as hostage and forced me into servitude thousands of years ago. I was enslaved. The survival of my race and my beloved Queen was used against me. For that reason, I closed my heart from the world and accepted my fate." The insectoid's red slits never moved. Yet, the Magus could feel overwhelming emotions emanating from it. "Until you came and saved us. For that, you have my eternal gratitude."

Shirou felt his eyes close. Conflicting emotions erupted from his already non-human heart. He could not accept the insectoid's gratitude. It was not his to take. It reminded him of the ideals he had threw away. For a moment, he could see the face of his late father. It was there for a moment, before it abruptly disappeared. He clenched his fists, pondering, before coming to a decision.

"Sir Meglass. Our King is kind. Without her, none of it would be possible," the Magus supplemented, not realizing that he was averting his gaze from the fellow Dark Lord. It was at that moment, he felt something on his shoulder. It was the insectoid's hand.

"Of that, I have no doubts. Her Majesty is a kind and gracious King. However, sir Shirou, you are the direct cause of her benevolence," the insectoid said in a reminiscent tone. "I was one of the first created Dark Lords. I have been in forced servitude for over three millennia; Demon King Avel and Demon King Nighcisa. They were cruel. They were cunning. They were tyrants. They were evil incarnate. I can tell you one thing for certain, sir Shirou. A Demon King does not listen to a mere Dark Lord. We are replaceable. Mere pawns to dispose off once our use meet its end. Tools for their bidding." The insectoid's grip became firmer.

"Our King does not listen to us. However, she listens to you. Only you. And because you are kind, so is she. Words cannot describe how amazing such a feat is."

Shirou felt the hand loosened, and the Horus turned to left. The Magus could not form any words of response. He merely stared at the leaving figure. However, he did hear the last few words uttered by the fellow Dark Lord.

"And for such a benevolent King and a dear friend, I will fight. Against this world of injustice."

At a distance, he could see a figure. It was an unfamiliar figure, but he could make out a distinct female form. She looked somewhat like the leaving insectoid, only she had yellow slits instead of red. There was a certain majesty on the way she carried herself. Royalty perhaps. The Magus could tell the figure was smiling as she waited for the purple Horus. They did not exchange any words. They simply left. However, even as the backs of their wings were exposed, Shirou could tell one thing for sure.

They looked happy.

(Part 5)

The spar with Meglass did not last long. Shirou had already made way to his next destination. The travel took a bit more time than expected, and the Magus wondered why the sole vampire in their entourage had to build his residence in the middle of nowhere.

It was a dark forest. It was day, yet there was a strange darkness that permeated the area. The Magus was confident that even with all his experience working with the Enforcers of the Clocktower, he would have difficulty navigating through the solitary place once it turns night-time. He also didn't understand why his fellow Dark Lord had to be so indirect about it. If the noble wanted to invite him, he could have just asked him directly. Instead, the old-fashioned vampire sent him a lettered invitation delivered by one of his maid Apostles. The Magus sighed at the man's obstinance. Why couldn't any of his fellow Dark Lords be normal for once?

His footsteps echoed in the solitary forest. All he could hear was the crunching of fallen leaves and the snap of dead wooden branches. He continued to march until he was met with the view of an old castle. It was not as grand as the Demon King castle, but it still served as candy for the eye. Ancient, yet majestic. Perhaps a heavy reminder that the old vampire had been around in this world for more than two millennia.

By the time he realized it, he had reached a steel gate. As he approached, the steel bars automatically moved and left an open way for his entry. He could see the doorway into the castle. In front of the giant doorway stood a familiar group of maids. They bowed, showing respect to the technical superior of their Master.

"Lord Emiya. Master Kesselring had been expecting you. Please come inside. We will guide you."

He nodded and made to follow the entourage of the nobleman's Apostles. Former humans, the Magus noted. There were a couple of unfamiliar faces within the group. The old vampire must have been occupied lately, the Magus thought as he passed through the ancient halls.

The interior of the castle was old, but it was well-maintained; proof of the dedication of the maids who clean the place. Old, ancient statues of gargoyles and armor displays were lined up in a straight line. Beautiful, archaic paintings adorned the walls and expensive-looking curtains decorated the windows. The whole place was the embodiment of old nobility; it complemented the personality of the Master of the castle.

"Lord Emiya. We have arrived. The Master is waiting behind this door."

He nodded once more to the speaking maid. Sharon, he recalled her name was. The girl's feature was calm and elegant, just like that of her Master. As he entered the room however, he did not miss the sharp, piercing glares to his back. It was not hostile, but it was filled with anger of the past.

A fitting anger, the Magus thought. They were after all, loyal maids and faithful followers of their Master. It would be in bad taste to begrudge them for being resentful after what he did years ago.

He was, after all, the man who had killed their Master.

"Lord Emiya. You have arrived," a noble voice resounded along with the sound of door closing.

The vampire noble was sitting on a chair beside a small table by an open window. On one of his hands was an old tome, and in his front was a half-filled glass of wine. He was simply there, waiting for him.

"Please, take a seat," the nobleman said as he closed the book in his hand and motioned for the seat across him.

"Kesselring," the Magus acknowledged as he took the offer and perched himself across the old vampire.

Dark Lord Kesselring. Duke of Darkness. Ruler of the night.

"I hope you find it in your heart to forgive Sharon and my dear maids, Lord Emiya. They mean no harm," the noble gave a small bow of apology, his tone sincere.

Shirou shook his head at the noble's apology. "There is no need. There was no harm done. If anything, I should be the one to apologize to them."

That brought a chuckle to the old vampire. "A noble sentiment. Would you care for a glass of wine?"

"Of course," the Magus accepted the hospitality. It wasn't as if his non-human body could get drunk anyways.

The old noble had opted to leave his seat and returned promptly with a bottle of elegant design. The Magus could hear cork of the bottle pop and the sound of liquid pouring. He unconsciously let out an amused snort.

"Something the matter?" the noble inquired as he set down the ancient bottle of wine on the small table surface.

"Sorry about that. I just didn't expect that I would be sitting here, sharing a glass of wine with a former enemy. One that I have killed once before, no less."

This was after all, the first time he had sit down and conversed with the old vampire after his conversion into a Dark Lord. Suffice to say, the old vampire himself probably did not expect things to turn out this way when they had first encountered each other.

The fellow Dark Lord, perhaps understanding the sentiment, let out an amused chuckle. "Indeed. A rarity even in my two millennia of existence. Now then," the noble began. "Lord Emiya. Please grant my request. I would be grateful if you do me the honor of showing me the blade that once slayed me."

It was an earnest request. One that the Magus could not find the heart to reject. They were allies now; comrades sharing the same cause. There was no place for past grudges.

Motes of light gathered as the Magus opened his palm. On it was a sword. It was not a conventional one as it resembled a scythe more than a sword. The Magus offered the blade to the seated noble, who calmly witnessed the act with calmness and dignity. The fellow Dark Lord took the offered blade, gently inspecting it.

"Harpe. Slayer of Immortals."

The very blade that destroyed Dark Lord Lexington and the vampire's Invincibility Field. The same sword that caused the former's demise and the latter's incapacitated state. The ultimate weapon against their kind.

"A magnificent blade," the vampire commented. The noble took one last inspection of the divine sword before returning it. "My gratitude, Lord Emiya. I have committed this blade to memory."

Silently accepting the sword, the Magus allowed it to fade back into his realm.

There was no need for a response as the noble began to speak once more, "We, the Dark Lords, had become conceited. Nothing could kill us. Nothing could harm our bodies. We were granted powers beyond our reckoning. We thought ourselves invincible, less only to the liege we serve." The noble closed his eyes as he started to reminisce, "Thank you, Lord Emiya, for showing me proof of my conceit."

Five years ago, not long after he killed Dark Lord Lexington, the Magus met Dark Lord Kesselring for the first time. Or to be more precise, the Magus actively hunted the nobleman down once he heard of the rumors surrounding the old vampire. It was not a long exchange; there were no words shared between them. The Magus had identified the old vampire as one of the enemies he had to slay, and the vampire correctly identified the killer of his fellow Dark Lord.

It had been a short, yet brutal exchange. The old vampire had showcased his centuries worth of accumulated strength and battle experience. Shirou recalled having one of his arms almost lopped off and his circuits fried from overuse. It was not an experience he wanted to relive again. The only reason he was alive was because of how powerful Gele's healing spells were.

His opponent was after all, this world's closest thing to his world's Dead Apostle. Any human the vampire bit turned infected just like a Dead Apostle created by an Ancestor would. The noble's strength would also easily qualify as one of the twenty-seven Dead Apostle Ancestor. Especially given how hard to kill the Dark Lord was. The Magus thought for certain he had eliminated the vampire. Clearly not the case as they were having this conversation right now.

Not even Harpe, with its nullifying invincibility attribute, could kill the Dark Lord completely. For comparison, not even Dark Lord Lexington's Blood Soul remained when the Magus was done with the Oni.

Kesselring was just that powerful.

"Think nothing of it. In any case, we are no longer enemies. There is no reason for me to keep any secret from you," the Magus supplied as he took a sip from the wine glass. It was not a taste he was used to.

"Then, would you indulge me by answering one more question?"

Their eyes met. The Magus nodded.

"Why did you save her?"

A pause.

"I am not sure wh-"

"Our King."

Heavy silence loomed between them. The vampire continued, "Lord Emiya. No, Emiya Shirou. You could have avoided your death sentence, yet you did not. You could have been hailed as a hero by humanity, yet you chose not to. All it would take was to simply ignore and leave the girl to her fate. What fueled you to such a decision?"

He was surprised at the rage he felt at the sheer impudence that question held. Without realizing, the table they shared was already split in half by the force he had put in his hand. Sounds of glass shattering resounded in the room, followed by the distinct roll of the wine bottle that fell along with it. Twenty swords of varying legends, Harpe being one of them, surrounded the noble. However, the man did not look intimidated. There was only pure curiosity in his gaze.

He could hear loud footsteps running towards them. The door opened with a bang as the maid Apostles entered, each of them sporting a murderous gaze towards him, the sole perpetrator.

"Lord Kesselring!"

"Out. Leave us be," the vampire commanded.

"B-but…!"

"Sharon. Please," the noble persuaded, this time in a gentler tone.

"…As you command."

The entourage of maids turned to leave once more. They looked at their Master, worried, but decided to follow the man's orders in the end.

Even as the old vampire gazed at his furious expression, even as the door clicked and closed once more, the swords never disappeared. For once, the vampire looked apologetic. But at the same time, the man looked pleased. As if the violent response was a pleasant surprise for the old vampire.

"Lord Emiya. No, Shirou. Please answer my question."

Shirou was not sure what led the stuck up noble to suddenly let go of the formality in which he called him. He was too enraged to care nor notice. The Dark Lord of Steel closed his eyes as he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. The swords pointed threateningly against the vampire disappeared as he willed them out of existence. It took him a couple more seconds before he had enough control to form a response.

"Because of a promise," he began.

"…A promise?"

The inquisitive look the vampire gave opted him to continue, "Because I promised to save her when no one will. Even if it means to turn the whole world against me. Even if it means I'm betraying the wish of my late father." His fists were starting to bleed from how hard he was clenching his fists. "Because I promised myself to save her. No matter how long it takes. Even if I must lose everything in the process. Even if I have to do it repeatedly."

He was reminded of her smile. Her laughter. Her tears.

"Because that kind girl deserves happiness. Happiness that this world took away from her," his steel gaze turned to look at the noble's crimson. The vampire's eyes were as wide as it could be.

"Because what kind of hero would I be, if I can't even save a single girl?" There was no small amount of derision at his last statement. Just like how he failed to save Sakura. Just like how he lost Miyu. The man who was too stubborn to not lose anything ended up losing everything. That was who he, Emiya Shirou, was. Not even his death could erase that fact.

The Magus did not know when it happened. In front of him was no longer the same pale blonde vampire. In his stead was a woman with short, azure blue hair. However, that woman was also wearing the same outfit as the pale-blonde vampire. The woman approached and slowly enveloped his hand with hers.

"…Perhaps, if more humans were like you, we would have long decided to co-exist with mankind," a feminine voice, nothing close to the pale-blonde vampire's, sounded.

"Please forgive me for asking such a cruel question. I merely wanted to confirm my suspicion," the woman let out a smile. The hands that were holding his gently tightened. "Shirou. I, Kesselring Kalar, approve of you. I will support you, and our King, to the ends of the Continent and until the end of time. That is the vow I so decree."

She saw of his confused look and snorted. The woman began to explain, "I am a Kalar. When I was chosen by the third Demon King, Ssulal, I shed my female form and adopted the male form. I threw away the Kalar name and became Kesselring, the Duke of Darkness that you know today."

Her hands left his as she turned to look at the window. The room was bathed by the light from the warm sunset. "That girl, Ssulal, was a pitiful girl. Always scared, always alone. But she was kind. Her desire for a peaceful world was a beautiful one. I swore to protect that girl. That girl who was so scared to be hurt and yet reached out to me," the vampire closed her eyes, as if looking back at the past.

"And then I failed. She was made a mockery by the Gods. Killed because she was too kind for her own good; too scared of being left behind by her followers." The woman turned around to look at him, a sad look in her crimson eyes. "Please. Save that girl, Shirou. Do not repeat the same mistakes I did."

(Part 6)

It was late at night when Shirou returned from Kesselring's domain. Gele had preferred their old cabin rather than the extravagant room within the Demon King's castle. She had said that her predecessor's taste in room décor was a bit too gaudy for her taste, something Shirou could wholeheartedly agree with. Though it was rare, the girl turned Demon King would spend the night there to attend any unfinished duties. This night was one such night. However, something was not quite right.

He ignored the looks of worry from the non-human attendants and guards of the fortress, assuring them to go back to their duties. They obediently bowed and left. He continued towards the sole, biggest room within the castle. The entrance of the room was big; surely designed to fit the status of the ruler of Monsters. When he unlocked the door to access the room within, he was met with a state of destruction.

The windows glass had all shattered. The gaudy red linen carpet that decorated the room had been torn into shreds, and many walls were broken as if something had bulldozed through them. Slash marks littered the room. Most of the furniture had not make it through the ordeal and were left as pieces on the brick floors. For a moment, the Magus had suspected that an enemy had made managed to sneak in and launched an attack, but the Magus abandoned the thought when he concluded that there were only his and one other presence in the room.

"Gele?" he called out to sole crouched figure in the center of the room. When he realized that she was rocking her body back and forth while clutching her head as if in pain, he abandoned walking and opted to run instead. "Gele!"

When he reached out for her shoulder, the Magus felt a sudden burst of pressure. Raw power oozed from the girl's figure. The tendrils of darkness that marked her appendages were writhing, as if dancing. He heard the girl sniff as her dark appendage reached to grasp for his. When he caught her chin and gently lifted it, he saw that the girl's eyes were glowing in a sickening dark glow that opposed her usual, serene turquoise blue. Her face was laden with tear drops. He appeared to have successfully captured the girl's attention judging by how her unfocused eyes regained a bit of its light.

"Shirou… you're back…?" she whispered hoarsely. The girl immediately fell to his embrace as she clutched for his back. "I woke up just now," the girl uttered with a trembling voice. "When I did and I realized that you were not there, I started to see things. I saw you, alone on a hill of swords. Your body was stabbed by countless weapons and no matter how many times I called you, you never turned back." Her hold on him tightened further. "Then I saw you again. On that execution platform. I saw you from that day. When they threw rocks at your helpless body, and they kept on chanting for your death. I kept killing them. I drowned them with darkness and grinded them to dust with all of my spells, but they never stopped appearing," the girl murmured in a small voice as he felt her shudder.

"They tried to take you away from me. Again, and again. The whispers and the laughter wouldn't stop. I could hear voices. It tried to make me do things. Things I don't want. Things that I can't control…" the girl trailed as he saw her fists clenched. "Shirou… I'm scared that when I wake up one day, I would no longer be myself."

Shirou stared at the pitiful state of the girl in his hold. Not his Master. Not the Demon King. Just Gele, that kind girl who picked him up and gave him a place in this world. The girl who laughed alongside those orphaned children. The girl who he once shared a similar wish with. The girl he had pledged his heart and entirety to.

"Gele. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," he said as he gently caressed her hair. "I'm your assistant, remember?"

He was her assistant in that small workshop. The place where she devoted majority of her human life. The place where he brought her refreshments and baked goods. A small haven.

When he heard a small, light chuckle from the still crying girl, he felt his lips curl slightly.

"Don't worry. I won't let them take you," he assured her. "Not even over my dead body."

Not her. Never her. He wouldn't repeat the mistakes he had made in the past. He would never let them take her away from him. This accursed world.

Somehow, the girl had managed to land a jab on him despite the position they were in. "You're not allowed to die you idiot. Also, you already died once," she muttered as her head rested on the crevice of his neck and shoulder.

"I guess that's true. I don't think I want to die again. Something tells me you're never going to let me go for it if I do."

The girl chuckled, not denying nor confirming the accusation. The Magus suspected the girl would just resurrect and then kill him again for his idiocy.

"Now, shall we go back?" he proposed, opting to lift the smaller girl's body in a princess carry.

"Yeah. To our home."

To that small cabin in the woods. The place they could always go back to. Their home.

The girl smiled and closed her eyes as consciousness left her. However, the Magus noticed that the wisps of darkness were no longer present.

(Part 7)

It had been a while since they last had an outing. His responsibilities as the de-facto leader of the Dark Lords and Gele's duties as the Demon King plus her research had not allowed for such a luxury. However, the Magus made sure not leave his Master to her own devices lest her body was acting up again.

When Gele had turned into the Demon King, she had changed. She was still Gele, but she became colder. More ruthless. More indifferent. She was more prone to nightmares, and he had to be there personally to calm her down. He shuddered to think what would happen had he returned from Kesselring's domain even a bit later. It was not a prospect he wanted to think about.

Gele had changed. When they were together, he could see semblances of the girl of his memories. When they were away from each other, his fellow Dark Lords and subordinates informed him of her behavior. Cold, distant, and uncaring.

It did not matter to the Magus. No matter what the girl had become, he would be there for her when she needed him. Her change did not lessen the feelings he held for the girl.

They were walking on a familiar path. In the past, they would often come here together. It was a place that held a special place in their hearts. It was a place filled with joy and laughter.

However, the girl looked reluctant. As they held each other's hand, he could feel the girl tremble, as if she was fearing something that she could not see. He squeezed the hand holding hers, reassuring the girl. The girl may have tried to let go of this place, but he would not let her. Not when this place was so important to that kind girl.

When the girl reluctantly took a step forward and knocked the door in front of her, they patiently waited.

"Yes~? Huh?!"

It was a cry of surprise from a familiar face. The girl in front of them was older now. The Magus had seen the girl grow, but as for the person next to him, who had not seen that girl for years, it must have been quite a shock.

"Big Sis! Big Bro! You're back!" the girl let out a pleased voice as she jumped in joy. "Everyone! Big Bro and Big Sis is here!" the girl loudly declared, and he heard the loud stomping of hurried footsteps.

They, especially the girl still holding his hand, were quickly surrounded by a bunch of familiar faces. All of them, just like the girl who opened the door, had all grown up. They were no longer the small kids from the past, but teenagers and young adults. Shirou could no longer feel the tremor in his hand. All he saw from the girl's expression was perplexity and disbelief.

When they were literally dragged inside, he saw as her stare monitored the whole place, as if trying to compare it with the one she had in her memory. The place did not change much; the Magus had made sure to keep the place in pristine condition while also keeping it the same. The kids complained at the lack of upgrades from time to time, but when he explained it to them once, they never did anymore. They understood the meaning behind his act unconsciously and was supportive of it.

After that fateful day, Gele never came back to this place. Perhaps she was afraid of what they would think of her. Perhaps she did not want them to know what she had become. But the Magus knew that these kids would never judge the person who protected and cherished them more than anyone else. They would not abandon the girl who spent decades taking care of this place and the precious souls in it. They would not leave the girl to her fate, just like how she never left them to theirs.

The girl had been exposed to the most twisted side of humanity. However, she had also been exposed to its best. Though her hatred remained, so does her humanity. Though the Demon King lives, so did the girl whose name was Gele.

They were sitting on a table. On it was several plates of familiar looking dishes. It was humble, it was nostalgic, but it was enough.

The girl had unknowingly lifted her spoon and chewed.

"…It tastes horrible," the girl muttered.

"Do you like it? You taught us how to make it after all! We made some of our own improvements! I call it, Hanny Rice Alpha Omega Version Eight!"

Gele was going to be alright. He would make sure of it.

(Part ?)

On the day Emiya Shirou died, he was brought back to life. On that day, when he sacrificed his life to save the one girl that mattered, he had also turned her into an existence that belies the girl's core; the kind girl who had only wanted to help others had transformed into the existence known as the Demon King.

Emiya Shirou had died on the day of his execution. In his stead was an existence known as Dark Lord Emiya, the Dark Lord of Steel. They were different, yet the same. They are a sword; a blade that saves and the steel that cuts down the enemies of his Master. Two contradicting existences in the form of one man. They are Emiya Shirou.

On that day, when that girl shed tears for a broken man; a broken man with bankrupt ideals, the man made a promise. Even if he was betraying his late father's wish; even if he was walking into the depths of hell; even if his life was dripping with hypocrisy; even if he couldn't forgive himself for failing her; even if he didn't know how long the process would take. He would not stop. Just like how that girl never gave up on him.

"Greetings. I am Planner. One of the Supreme Gods who created this world."

Even if he must cut down this world. Even if he must slay the Gods who walk on it. This time. Surely. For the sake of fulfilling the promise he made on that day.

"I am the bone of my sword."

He would save that girl. Come what may.

---

(Extra Story: If Warg met Shirou)

Gele couldn't believe what she was seeing. She was being betrayed again. By one of her direct subordinates no less. Her stare never once diverted from the sight before her. She felt the biggest slight she had ever experienced during her reign as the lord of Monsters.

"Oi," the Demon King growled. There was no civility in her voice. "What do you think you're doing?"

In front of her was a bed. Her and Shirou's bed. They were in their usual cabin. The scene of the Magus sleeping on said bed was of course, natural.

The presence of a small girl with platinum blonde hair on top of him was not.

"…Mm?" The small girl's eyes met hers for a moment. Before the girl deliberately ignored the King and proceeded to snuggle harder. "Master. Warm," the girl murmured. She didn't miss the waft of a familiar, yet powerful magic oozing from the girl into the body of the man next to her.

The damned girl was using her extremely potent sleep effect on Shirou. Intentionally.

She knew because Shirou had already gave the small girl means to control her power. She was personally there to witness it.

"Get off him. Now. Or else,"she warned.

"You're not Master. Warg will not listen."

Right. That damned girl was not one of her Dark Lords, so she couldn't use Blood Control on her. She should have stopped Shirou when he decided to pick the girl up and turned the blonde girl into his Apostle.

The girl had been stuck to Shirou like a glue since then. She kept on following him no matter where he went. Like a baby chick to its mother hen. Gele even turned a blind eye when the blonde took her seat beside Shirou during dinner.

But the girl crossed the line. No one intrudes the Demon King's love nest. No one.

Gele felt her eye twitch as a mass of dark power ejected from her body. The tendrils of darkness on her appendages danced violently. The Demon King's blood within her raged.

It was then that the man finally spurred awake only to see a giant orb of darkness looming over him and the girl still snuggling to his torso. Confused, he could only shake his head back and forth towards the looming danger and the perpetrator of this incident.

"Uh… what was I…? Huh?! Wait, Gele! Wait wait wait wait we only managed to fix this place last week! Don't don't don't don't Rho Aiaaaaaaaaaaaaggghhhhhhhh-" his plea was cut off abruptly as the mass of energy approached.

A giant explosion could be seen from far away. The tremor could even be heard all the way to the Demon King's castle.

"What was that?" random Monster A asked.

"Oh, that's just our liege and Lord Emiya. Don't worry about it. Happens every week," said random Monster B.

"Alright boys. Get your tools ready. This is the 76th repair project for her Majesty's private home," random Monster C added as it hoisted several heavy looking toolsets.

The trio sighed. Life was hard in the Monster World.

(Afterword)

Warg is cute. Enough said. Also, you guys should check Alicesoft wiki if you're interested in Ranceverse lore. Quite a lot of information I was not able to cover. If you guys can predict where I'm going with this, then you are a true fan of both series.

Until then, well just wait and see. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.

Next chapter will take a bit more time because I'll be busy drawing the cover for this story. See you guys then.