Fate: Hammer Time

by TedTheRabbit

Shirou Emiya wanted to become a hero. That was clear to all who truly know him. For a long time though, he lacked the power to actually achieve that goal. No longer. No longer will he lack the power, now that the Hammer of the Odinson has chosen him as new wielder. Prepare for Thunder. ShirouxMultiple, Thor-Shirou.

16. Root Them Out

Root Them Out

---

The day after the swimming exam

Vincent Balefor was usually the most confident man in the room. He prided himself on being unflappable and cool-headed under any circumstances, always ready for what the world might throw at him.

Most people who were even remotely familiar with the man would disagree vehemently, but he had never paid any attention to such criticism. They were just jealous, and jealous howling was easily ignored.

So when he woke up that morning and discovered he was feeling ill-at-ease and dare he say it, afraid, it caused him no small amount of confusion and distress.

He'd been afraid before of course, his confrontation with Barthomeloi coming to mind, but never without a cause or reason, like what seemed to be the case now. It wasn't like him to fear invisible ghosts or possible futures, his mental fortitude was much stronger than that!

Nevertheless, he just couldn't shake the feeling that something big was going to happen very soon, something that was in no way beneficial for him or his plans.

It might just be paranoia, but he hadn't survived this long by ignoring his gut-feelings. He would need to keep his eyes open for threats from within, just in case his partners intended to betray him, and from without, in case that lord managed to find him.

While being found by anyone from the Clocktower would be terrible, that lord was one of the worst possible options where Balefor himself was concerned.

It wasn't that the lord was particularly cruel or vindictive, far from it even, he was rather soft compared to others, but Balefor wouldn't dare underestimate him. That man wasn't a lord in the Clocktower for nothing after all. In fact, being one of the few that who managed to survive that glorified slaughter in Fuyuki-City proved he wasn't a man to be trifled with.

The only one that was perhaps worse than that lord was Barthomeloi herself, since she was in fact very vindictive and cruel when she was in the mood for it.

Of course, Balefor would rather not be captured by either of them, or by anyone really. He much preferred to remain free and had always worked hard to cover his tracks. Unfortunately, it wasn't always up to him whether the tracks were covered or not.

In fact, uncovered tracks were the whole point of the meeting he was in now. They had to discuss the results of their latest folly concerning that chit of a Tohsaka and their 'masterplan' to capture her for themselves, because of course that went wrong again.

"The mercenary we hired to kidnap the Tohsaka still hasn't checked in with me." Waudenstad began, a heavy frown on his disturbingly rat-like face. "Which is very strange, since the Tohsaka should be in his possession already."

"He hasn't sent any messages whatsoever?" Balefor asked, wanting to get to the bottom of this matter, the premonitions of this morning clear in his mind.

"None." Waudenstad confirmed. "Ever since he left for Hikone, he has dropped off the radar. All signs of him have disappeared. We don't even know if he's still alive, much less where he is."

"Is it perhaps possible then that he has been caught?" Meire Palerna asked fearfully. "By Tohsaka herself, or perhaps someone else, like her pet-priest?"

Waudenstad gritted his teeth in displeasure. "That is entirely possible, I'm afraid."

"Then we have to abandon this place as soon as possible." Balefor cried, now understanding where his bad feelings had come from. "If we stay here, we are at a significant risk of being caught."

The faces of the others drew into grimaces at his words, showing just how displeased they were with his suggestion.

On some level, Balefor understood their reaction. They had literally spent years making this castle their home, not to mention their Workshops, a Magus' most sacred place, were also located here, making it very grating to have to leave.

However, staying was an enormous risk, one they could not afford to take. They had to flee at once. No base was worth being captured over, that was common sense.

Unfortunately, not everyone agreed with his common sense.

"Please calm yourself, Vincent." Palerna spluttered, nervously combing her bangs to the side with her hands. "It is by no means certain the mercenary has been captured, let's not be so hasty."

"Indeed." Waudenstad fell in, wiping sweat from his rat-like face. "Maybe Brunevis was just delayed, with no means of messaging us, or he failed his mission and is too ashamed to contact us again. There is no need to assume the worst immediately."

"We must assume the worst." Balefor bristled, annoyed at their inability to see reason. "I don't want to leave either, but we can't take any chances. Not with something like this."

"Even if Balefor was caught, then the chance he will talk is still very small." Burgon said soothingly. "From my conversation with him, I can confidently say that he wouldn't betray his employers that easily, not to mention that it will ruin his reputation as a mercenary completely if he did."

The others gave relieved nods at those words, but Balefor almost flew off the handle at their naivety.

"Are you all daft?!" He asked incredulously, only just keeping himself from screaming. "If he was caught, he was caught attempting to abduct an official Second Owner. That is a capital crime! Even if no one would care about that Asian Hedge-Mage herself, they will still take this chance to torture him for every bit of information he possesses."

"And torture breaks almost everyone, as I can personally attest." Waudenstad murmured, looked extremely nervous again.

Balefor emphatically nodded, happy that someone at least was getting it. "Right, and then they will come for us, a bunch of Sealing Designees, and we will be tortured as well, before they kill us and destroy our research."

"Wait, what?!" Allesandro Alva, Palerna's partner and the most short-tempered of them all, suddenly interrupted, breaking the contemplative silence he'd been in since the beginning. "Torture? What are you talking about? Certainly, they will just execute us and be done with it?"

"Y-Yes." Palerna agreed, stuttering in surprise and fear. "W-We are guilty of n-nothing but Dead Apostle-research. T-that wouldn't get us t-tortured, would it?"

"…?"

Balefor couldn't believe his ears. Why on Earth would they ever think they were not going to be tortured?

It then struck him however, that both Alva and Palerna came from Southern-Europe. The influence of the Clocktower wasn't very strong in that region. The Church, which had its headquarters in the Vatican, would never allow it to gain any sort of pull there, political or otherwise. As such, that part of the world fell under the jurisdiction of the Executors of the Church, not the Enforcers of the Clocktower.

The Church would actually do exactly what Alva and Palerna had said: kill them, destroy their research and be done with it. No torture involved anywhere, not for insignificant little thugs like them.

Unfortunately, the Clocktower was not the Church.

"I suppose that's what the Church does?" Balefor hissed, at which both Alva and Palerna nodded their heads in confirmation. "Because let me tell you, the Clocktower won't kill us that easily. We are Sealing Designees with potentially useful research, and we will be tortured for every scrap of that research, while also serving as an example for any others who might contemplate breaking the law. Then, we will be used as research-subjects ourselves, gifted to those Magi who do in fact behave themselves."

Balefor would know, he had only narrowly escaped such a fate after murdering his uncle and cousin after all.

Palerna and Alva had gone deadly pale after he finished speaking, and then quickly huddled together, speaking in whispered tones.

Balefor contemplated leaning in to listen, but was distracted when Waudenstad started speaking again.

"I already knew all of this, young Vincent, and I understand your fears very well. Fortunately, I have a way to avoid such a fate for myself. One that is very unlikely to fail."

Balefor didn't believe a word of it, and he dismissed the doddering rat from his mind in favour of looking back at Palerna and Alva, just managing to catch the end of their little discussion.

"We can do it. We just need to be strong." Alva whispered, to which Palerna nodded, still pale, but also having a look of determination on her face. "It is our last resort, but if we must, we shall-"

"All this talk about possibilities is going nowhere." Burgon suddenly proclaimed loudly, drawing everyone's attention back to him. "We made our beds a long time ago and we must lie in them now. I have thought about our next course of action and I believe I have an acceptable plan."

Balefor just managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"We will wait until tomorrow afternoon for a message from James. If he contacts us before then, everything is fine. If not, we will abandon the castle with all haste."

Cue the disapproving looks from everyone but Balefor.

"Now, don't look at me like that. It won't be permanent. We shall simply wait for a week, during which we don't even look in the general direction of the castle, before we send our familiars for reconnaissance. Should they find that nothing is wrong and everything is the same as we left it, we can see if we can move back."

"What will we do though if the mercenary did talk and the Enforcers find this castle?" Alva ventured.

"Then the castle is lost. There is no way any competent Magus can miss the obvious traces of Magecraft after all, so make sure to take your research with you if we depart tomorrow."

Balefor blinked once. That was... actually a pretty good plan. Who knew the old man had it in him?

He wasn't the only one to approve, the other three did as well, so Burgon sent them off at once to prepare for a hasty departure.

Once he was alone, Balefor set out a sigh of relief.

By his intelligent words and quick, decisive actions, the crisis had been averted.

---

Detective Osaki couldn't remember a time when he had been as frustrated as he was now.

The cause of his frustration? Rakurai of course, who else?

Although to be fair, Rakurai was merely the source of those problems, not the direct cause of them.

Though it was irritating that the vigilante kept evading him and his colleagues with ease, he was doing good work at least. Wherever he went, crime rates dropped to almost non-existent for a while, and they never got as high again as they were before his visit, Osaki could admit that much.

Granted, Rakurai had recently killed a person, which had caused quite the uproar and had been ammunition for his detractors, but Osaki could attest that the 'victim' had been a monster, one that deserved death, as unprofessional as it was to think such a thing.

A good case for self-defence could even be made. The body of Oni had been discovered in a room alongside an actual, live grenade, two guns, and several knifes, as well as two hostages. It was entirely possible Oni had meant to kill himself alongside the hostages, forcing Rakurai to kill him in order to save the lives of the girls.

In fact, how Oni had died was more of a problem than that he had died, as it was yet another item on the list of impossible things Rakurai had done so far.

Next to travelling between cities at incredible speeds, taking down entire gangs without using any kind of weapon, overloading all the power circuits in buildings, and evading capture with insulting ease, Rakurai had actually folded someone in half now as well, which, according to the coroners, was an almost inhuman feat that even the strongest of bodybuilders would struggle with.

It fell to Osaki now to figure out how the vigilante had pulled that off, with not a single clue as to where to begin. Hell, there were times he felt tempted to call it 'magic' and be done with it, but professionalism prevented him from doing so.

However, even Rakurai's most frustrating antics still paled in comparison to what other people were getting up to in response to the vigilante's existence.

The first group of troublemakers were the many fans Rakurai now seemed to have, who all professed that the vigilante was a hero, who was in no way breaking the law and should be supported instead of hunted. In other words, they practically demanded of him and his colleagues that they ceased the hunt for their hero at once and let him work in peace.

Osaki didn't even try to keep track anymore of the many petitions for Rakurai's innocence that had been started on the internet, or the number of threats that he and his colleagues had received, or the number of rallies that had been held in Rakurai's name in various towns all over Japan.

He had the distinct feeling that Rakurai himself would heavily disapprove of his supposed fans' actions, but he had no way of making that clear to them without Rakurai standing right next to him to back him up on that.

Then, as the next group of frustrating troublemakers, there were the many officers from other towns and cities that wanted in on the Rakurai-investigation. Some for the glory, some out of curiosity, and a few out of a genuine sense of duty.

Osaki supposed he should be glad that he had been named the undisputed head of the national Rakurai-investigation, since with that fancy title behind him, he not only had the authority to give those annoying meddlers the boot, but he was also entitled to every bit of information about Rakurai that was available anywhere in the country.

On the other hand, being the national head also meant a lot more work was coming his way these days, as he now had to look into every single matter even remotely connected to the vigilante, including various copy-cats, as well as the aforementioned threats, petitions, and rallies.

In other words, frustrating circumstances.

Worse, it didn't even stop at the end of the workday. Even in his private life, he wasn't spared from the frustrations the vigilante brought him.

Not only because his treacherous mind kept returning to the case even when he was off duty, but also because of his own family.

In fact, his very own daughters were fans of Rakurai!

Even now, they were seated at the dinner table, busy visiting fan-made websites to get the latest gossip about their new hero.

"Oh, these images are so awesome." Chiho squealed as a very well-drawn picture of the vigilante appeared on screen.

"I agree. Miss Lightning Bolt is so kind for providing us with them. I would never have found them by myself." Suki agreed, an exited blush on her face.

"I know right? We should tell miss Lightning Bolt herself too, she would appreciate that."

Osaki let his head hang, a metaphorical dark cloud appearing above him. He had known that his daughters were very interested in this particular case, having discovered it themselves back when it was still a secret, but that interest had quickly changed into nigh worship as Rakurai kept making waves all across Japan.

He didn't want to deny them their hobby of course, but it was slightly disconcerting that they were so supportive of their father's nemesis.

Granted, he didn't know if Rakurai would consider him his nemesis, or if he even knew Osaki existed in the first place, but Rakurai was definitely his nemesis. That had to count for something.

At first, Suki and Chiho had visited every single one of those websites they could find, but lately, they had mainly stuck to the largest and most popular of them. Probably because of their newfound friendship with the founder of that site, one miss Lightning Bolt.

Being a concerned father, he had demanded to look in on several of those conversations between this person and his daughters. If this was some creep, he would have to block all contact between them and his girls and take steps to remove the creep from… preferably from existence, but from the streets was also fine.

From what he had seen however, nothing strange was going on. Just his daughters happily talking, or 'chatting' as it was called, with who he presumed to be an older woman, about Japan's favourite vigilante and his actions.

Osaki supposed he should just be happy his daughters were doing something relatively innocent. It could have been worse, like doing drugs, or going to parties with strange boys, or, Kami forbid, trying to emulate the vigilante.

The last option in particular was scary to contemplate. His daughters were physically active, more than most children of their age, but they were not capable of pulling off even the least of Rakurai's feats.

Really, staying at home and 'chatting' with innocent older women was just fine as far as rebellious behaviour went, thank you very much.

Still, it was slightly frustrating that his daughters were so obsessed with his nemesis. Shouldn't they be supporting their father instead?

As annoying as all of that was however, it was the last source of frustration that worried him the most. It was his very own partner, Yomaura Taya.

It wasn't that she was being annoying in any way. No, certainly not, he didn't believe she was even capable of purposely being annoying. However, she had been behaving differently lately, strangely even, and Osaki didn't know why.

"Heya Senpai. Would you like a cup of tea before we start the day?"

Speak of the devil and she will appear. Yomaura walked into the living room with two cups of tea the very moment his thoughts shifted to her. She walked with a bounce to her step and a smile on her face, yet Osaki could see that those were entirely fake.

"I already prepared our lunches too." She happily continued, sitting down next to him on the couch. "And when we're back, I'm going shopping with the girls. Would you like to come along? Not that you have to, but we would like it if you joined us."

There. That was what he meant with her behaving differently. That incredibly helpful and supportive behaviour.

Preparing breakfast, lunch, and dinner, taking the girls on whatever trips they wanted to go on, taking over his work whenever possible, complimenting him and the girls at every opportunity, making efforts to get closer to them and so on.

His partner was behaving as if she was about to leave them forever, or as if she expected Osaki, Suki and Chiho to die soon. It was as if she believed she would lose them the moment she turned away.

It honestly unnerved him, especially since he didn't even know the cause of it.

He had tried being patient, waiting until she would confide in him, but so far, she hadn't said a word about having problems of her own. At this point, the blunt approach was all he had left.

"I would love to come along this afternoon." He answered the question, to the clear joy of his girls, all three of them. "But before we leave for the precinct, I have to ask you something…"

"Yes?" Yomaura asked with a bright smile, prompting him to go on. "I'll answer to the best of my abilities, Senpai."

"…What's wrong, Taya?" Osaki asked, giving his partner a concerned look.

Yomaura blinked in surprise, looking confused for a few moments, followed by a fraction of a second of horrified understanding, before the smile came back to her face, though it looked far more brittle than before.

"Wrong? What do you mean, Senpai? Nothing is wrong with me." She denied immediately, giving a small laugh as she tried to wave away his concerns.

"There is though." Suki suddenly spoke up from where she was sitting at the table. "You've been acting very strange lately, Taya-Obaa-san. Really nice, but strange."

Osaki mentally fist-pumped at the timely support from his children, their words giving him cause to continue himself.

"You have indeed been unusually nice to the three of us lately, and while it is appreciated, I can't help but feel like you expect us to die at any moment." He said seriously. "Certainly, that is not the case, is it?"

It was like a switch had been flipped.

"You aren't going to die, Senpai!" Yomaura suddenly snarled, grabbing his hand in hers, her previous happy façade falling away in an instant to make place for an intense rage. "I won't allow it! Never!"

It was all Osaki could do to not rear back in shock. The girls, also clearly shocked at the redhead's sudden outburst, immediately abandoned their computer and came over to the couch, grabbing onto her in an effort to calm her.

"Of course we aren't going to die." Suki said hurriedly, hugging Yomaura's left arm. "We are right here, and we aren't going anywhere. We are not going to die."

"Yeah." Chiho agreed, hugging the right arm. "Don't worry, Taya-obaa-san, we won't leave you."

"Who would even kill us?" Suki laughed breathlessly.

As his daughters kept talking to Yomaura in reassuring tones, Osaki took his opportunity to place his hand on his partner's head, carefully angling it back so he could look her in the eyes.

"They are right." He said solemnly as the girls fell silent. "Taya, we aren't going to die, we aren't going anywhere. That's a promise."

Yomaura stared at them for a moment longer, her intense expression and almost glowing eyes enough to make Osaki's skin tingle, before her rage abated, and she slumped.

"You three." The half-Irish woman choked out, before looking up at them again with a much more sincere smile than before. "Thank you. Thank you so, so much, for everything you've done for me."

"No problem." Chiho chirped happily.

"No problem at all, Taya-obaa-san." Suki agreed.

"I'm sorry for acting so weirdly over the past month." Yomaura apologised, rubbing the back of her head. "It's just… It's something from my past. Something I thought I'd left behind but is once more haunting me."

Osaki grimaced at those words, and he could see the girls doing the same. Difficult stuff from the past was something they could empathise with very well.

"Do you need any help?" Chiho asked immediately. "Because we would be glad to help you in any way-"

"No." Yomaura denied just as fast. "This is something I have to deal with myself. I don't think you could help me with this anyway, except… well, except if you are willing to take very drastic measures."

The way she drew her finger across her throat was unmistakable.

"Let's avoid those for now." Osaki responded quickly, to the obvious disappointment of his daughters, who had actually seemed to contemplate those drastic measures. "We won't pry anymore, Taya, but know that we are here for you. Should you change your mind about needing help, we will be ready to provide it, right girls?"

"Yes!" Both his daughters cheered.

"I- thank you. All three of you." Yomaura said with a teary smile, quickly wiping her eyes with her sleeves. "You really are the best."

As she spoke those words, Osaki could see the determination in her eyes become even stronger, yet he still did not know what she was so determined about.

Taya then cleared her throat, smiling at Suki and Chiho. "For now though, your father and I need to go to the precinct, and you two need to go back to miss Lightning Bolt. Who knows what she'll think if you don't respond soon?"

"She usually has a lot of patience." Suki answered with a shrug, waving off the warning. "But we might as well answer her if you're leaving anyway. Come on Chiho, let's write our answer."

"Coming, Nee-san."

Giving both Osaki and Yomaura a very big goodbye-hug, with Yomaura even receiving a kiss on the cheek, the girls were off again, leaving the adults sitting on the couch.

There were many things they could have talked about now, many things that needed to be said between them, but ultimately, that would have to wait. Duty was calling, and it would not be ignored.

Getting up from the couch and grabbing his lunch, Osaki walked to his car alongside Yomaura, in comfortable silence, neither of them needing to say a word, simply content to walk in each other's presence.

For now, everything was alright.

---

Shirou had not wasted any time upon discovering the Magi were located in Hiraizumi. As soon as he had arrived back in Fuyuki-City, he had set his plan into motion.

He had delivered the mercenary to Kotomine's church at once, taking advantage of Sakura returning home right away to catch up on her sleep, leaving him with a free afternoon.

He had dumped the man on the church's porch with a note and had then knocked on the doors before retreating and hiding himself to observe the priest's reaction. His father had always said that Kotomine was diligent at his job for the Church, but Shirou was not going to leave anything to chance here.

Kotomine immediately calling Tohsaka about his new prisoner had been unexpected though, and it gave him quite the scare when he had suddenly seen the girl march in his direction. Fortunately, he had remained undiscovered by her, and from what he had heard of their conversation, they planned to deliver the man to the Clocktower, which was precisely according to Shirou's plan.

That evening, he had dinner again with a well-rested Sakura and an exuberant Fuji-nee, who had happily heaped praise on them for getting their swimming-certificates, while they just sat in embarrassed but appreciative silence.

After the girls had left for the night, he had made his way over to Hiraizumi, which was fortunately well within his travel-range.

It was a rather nice place, if a bit isolated from the rest of Japan, which was no doubt why it had been chosen as hide-out.

According to Brunevis, the Magi were holed up inside a castle, and fortunately for Shirou, there was only one castle in the vicinity, standing proudly on top of a nearby hill.

Before he could go there and put an end to the Magi's atrocities however, he would have to do some reconnaissance first.

It might seem strange to delay his attack while he was almost certain that he was at the right place, but Shirou wanted to be absolutely certain. Considering the amount of Magical residue around the place was insanely high, it was guaranteed that there were Magi living there. He just didn't know if they were his Magi or not, and he would like to confirm that before going any further. He would rather not wreck someone's home or perhaps even an ancient landmark if it wasn't necessary.

The magical traps and defences around the castle itself were located easily enough, and Shirou confirmed that none of them would be able to do him any permanent harm.

To find more information about the inhabitants themselves, he went into town to speak with the local populace, who, fortunately, were all more than willing to answer his inquiries. Whether their answers were actually helpful was another matter entirely though.

"They never step out as far as I know, but I must say that it is a damn nice castle. I wouldn't mind living in there myself."

That wasn't helpful at all. Liking comfort and luxury, as well as being introvert, were hardly traits unique to Magi. Next civilian:

"Don't know about the inhabitants, but sometimes, when I look out of the window when I can't sleep, I can see these large trucks driving through town on their way to the castle, with their drivers being armed, with guns. Don't know about the cargo of them trucks though. I want to do something about it too, but seeing those guns scares me something bad. None of my complaints to the police ever yielded results either and I don't dare to do more than that."

A lot more helpful. Either the cargo of those trucks was so valuable that weapons were needed to guard it, or the cargo itself had to be scared into obeying orders. Shirou was willing to bet it was the latter in this case. Next civilian:

"Hello mister. Uh, I don't know much about the castle. My mommy always says I should stay away from it, but eh… please don't tell her, but I didn't listen. Me and my friends used to go there sometimes, but we don't do so anymore after my best friend heard screaming coming from inside. I don't know if it's true, but he really doesn't want to go back there anymore."

Screaming? That was almost a reason in itself to check out the castle.

The stories Shirou heard often differed in the details, and some people were obviously making things up just to seem interesting, but after a while, he had heard enough to assemble a somewhat coherent picture.

The people in the castle were very reclusive, they never came to the city for any reason, invitations to parties or anything similar went completely ignored, and no one was ever allowed entrance in their home for any reason whatsoever.

Despite this seeming preference for peace and calm, several people from the city had seen highly suspicious activity occurring there though, such as the previously mentioned trucks and armed people arriving at night, as well as the earlier reported screaming.

Possibly even more damning was the fact that even the police stood helpless, despite the many complaints that had been filed against the inhabitants of the castle over the years.

Most people suspected bribing, though Shirou thought Hypnosis of several high-placed officials was a better explanation.

Which was why, after finishing his interrogation-spree of the normal inhabitants of Hiraizumi, he made his way over to the townhall, in order to have a little meeting with the mayor. He or she should have an idea of what was going on.

Shirou would never just have gotten a meeting with the mayor of course, but a bit of his own Hypnosis on the mayor's secretary worked very well in getting him that meeting regardless.

Any guilt he might have felt about Hypnotising the 'poor' secretary evaporated once said secretary revealed she had been taking bribes from pretty much everyone in town, to falsify reports, to get people higher on the waiting lists, to get the mayor to ignore certain things, the list went on.

No Hypnosis except Shirou's own could be found on her though, and she didn't have any knowledge of the inhabitants of the castle.

"Excuse me, Fujimaru-san? The mayor will see you now." That same secretary then cut through his thought-process.

With a nod, Shirou entered the mayor's room, where the man was sitting on his chair, looking as jovial, happy, and slightly overweight as a stereotypical mayor was supposed to be.

"Welcome young man." The mayor proclaimed. "My secretary insisted that this meeting was of vital importance, so here I am, ready to talk. I do hope it is a little more exciting than the boring meeting I just finished, I might just fall asleep otherwise, haha."

"Don't worry, Mayor-san." Shirou smiled sadly, feeling bad about what he was about to do, but knowing it was necessary. "It is."

Bringing the man under his control was easy enough, and so was interrogating him. It appeared he knew nothing of his secretary's actions and didn't suspect her either, partially because of his crush on her, and partially because he had little to no time in his schedule to look into such things.

The man was not involved in anything shady or immoral. Not knowingly anyway.

"Is there anything of note happening in your town? Anything illegal or strange going on?" Shirou inquired, wishing to know what other information the man could provide before he started looking for modified memories.

"Nothing's happening at all I'm afraid." The mayor replied with a shrug. "The town itself is rather quiet and has been so for a while. The biggest thing happening here is the new Rakurai-worshipping going on among the youth. They seem to hope he will pass by for a visit soon, though I genuinely don't know why a man like that should even bother with a quiet town like this."

"Rakurai?" Shirou asked in surprise, feeling slightly embarrassed that he apparently had fans in places he had never even visited before. "Do you know anything about him?"

"Only the basics, what was in the news." The mayor replied, making a dismissive hand-motion. "As well as some more secret details that normal citizens shouldn't know, such as knowing every place where he has struck and who the person in charge of the national investigation is."

"The person in charge of the national investigation?" Shirou parroted, feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach at those words. "Who is that and what do they do?"

"Well, like I said. That man is in charge of the national investigation into Rakurai. Every police-officer and detective everywhere have to inform him of every piece of information and evidence they find concerning Rakurai. You know, for more efficiency."

"…His name?"

"Right, Osaki Koyo, from the Fuyuki-City law enforcement."

…

That was… unexpected.

Shirou knew the police had been looking for him, but to have an entire nationwide investigation dedicated just to him was a nasty surprise. He would need to have a word with this 'Osaki Koyo' soon.

That matter however was not why he was here. It could wait until he had stormed the castle.

As the mayor had nothing more to tell him, Shirou looked deeper into his mind, and indeed found a memory-block there.

"Do you know anything about the castle on the hill?" Shirou asked him, without breaking the lock on his memories yet.

"I can't say I know anything about it." The mayor answered, looking completely sure of himself. "A very mysterious lot lives there, doing strange things apparently, but no matter how much people complain, no one ever looks closer into it."

"You don't know anything?" Shirou asked again, upon which he received a shake of the head.

He then promptly broke the memory-block in the man's mind with a small push.

After waiting for a few seconds, during which he saw many emotions flash across the mayor's face as the new memories integrated, he tried again: "What about now?"

"Y-Yes, now I remember something." The mayor frowned, clearly confused at suddenly knowing more than a few seconds ago. "Some British guy came to me recently, telling me to alert him at once if anything strange happened in the city. I-I agreed, but I don't remember why I agreed. I don't even know the guy."

"Do you remember anything about this man?" Shirou asked sharply, understanding very well what this all meant.

"He looked like the stereotypical British person, and he said his name was Vincent Balefor, with his occupation being a researcher of sorts."

Shirou hesitated for a few seconds, contemplating on asking more about that British man, before deciding that the castle as a whole took precedence. Vincent Balefor was not a name he had heard before, but then again, there were at least five Magi, and he only had the name of one of them, now perhaps two.

"Have you ever been to the castle itself?" Shirou continued.

"Y-Yes, I think I have." The mayor continued, looking very surprised again at his own knowledge. "So very strange, I could have sworn I never went there in my life. Anyway, I was there, and I saw… NO!"

The mayor jumped from his chair with a roar. His eyes were wide open in shock and his fist were balled, in nervousness or rage, Shirou couldn't tell.

"I saw people in chains." The man hissed, now definitely enraged. "So many of them, begging their captors for mercy. I recall it now. I wanted to alert everyone, call the police, gather a mob, do anything, but some rat-like man stopped me before I could. He just looked at me and I… just couldn't remember anything, at all. I must do something, right now…"

"Please, Mayor-san, calm down." Shirou shushed him, pushing him back into the chair. "I understand your rage but charging off by yourself will do no good. Let me deal with them instead."

"Y-You?" The mayor asked, looking shaken again. "W-Well, if you're absolutely sure you can handle it. Please then, end the atrocities that are happening there. Many innocent lives are in your hands now."

"I know, Mayor-san." Shirou said calmly. "Let me handle it. I will leave for the castle now. If anyone asks, we only discussed your secretary and how you are going to have her arrested for corruption."

"Yes." The mayor agreed once Shirou reapplied the memory-block. "She has to go, untrustworthy wench that she is."

"Excellent. Have a pleasant day, mayor-san."

"You as well, young man."

---

Matou Zouken, though normally not prone to excessive emotions, was currently growing angrier every day.

It was shameful for a Magus of his age and experience to lose himself to rage, he knew that, but he just couldn't stop it.

His 'precious' wards, the last hope for his family, were growing bolder and more rebellious by the day. It was subtle, yes, very subtle, but it was definitely there. Fear of him replaced by annoyance, awe for him replaced by contempt, and apathy for others replaced by love. Disgusting.

That wasn't everything though. He also had Emiya starting to poke his nose where it didn't belong, and Tohsaka starting to actually do her job of watching over Fuyuki-City instead of leaving it to Emiya and the damn priest.

Added to that were the continuous deaths of his Worms because of those damned storms. At first, those had only seemed annoying, temporarily cutting Zouken's connection with his familiars, but lately, his Worms had actually started succumbing to the stress and pain placed on them by those meteorological horrors.

He was now losing the very things he needed for surveillance and for his own survival, in large numbers, with only the Worms inside the house and within his Bounded Fields being spared.

Oh, and also the ones inside Sakura of course. Those were still safe and well.

Still, he had a lot of problems to deal with and ever-shrinking resources to use to combat them. He would have to think of something clever soon, or he was going to lose his control over Fuyuki-City before the year was out.

He had better recall all the Worms that were left to his house then. No sense in letting them die uselessly out there. There were other ways of keeping watch over town without using his little bit of life-essence that remained.

---

Shirou called upon a thunderstorm with practiced ease, making it cover the entire town of Hiraizumi, though the castle on the hill in particular.

It posed no problem for him to do so anymore. He'd had more than enough practice with creating storms, especially during the last few weeks, where he had been calling upon storms almost every day to deal with those Worms all over the city.

Zouken had the right to keep watch over his own territory, Shirou would not deny him that, but his Worms had no business outside of there. Shirou had thus created those storms and infused them with a bit of the Cleansing Power, a mix that seemed very effective against the little critters. The old Magus now could either recall his familiars, or lose them.

Back to business, he was still standing in the city itself, though hidden in an alley, wearing his vigilante apparel. He was planning on donning his armour as soon as he was out of Hiraizumi, but it would attract too much attention for now.

From his alley, he heard many exclamations of surprise from the people still on the streets, who were now caught out in the open by his thunderstorm.

They all seemed to be heading for cover now, most likely in order to wait out the rain. Not that it would stop anytime soon, Shirou would see to that.

With the storm now going strong, Shirou launched himself into the sky, counting on the rain and the darkness to keep him hidden from any eyes that might be looking up for some reason.

Flying fast, it was only minutes later that he arrived within a hundred metres of the castle, where he could feel the presence of the first Bounded Field, one that served no purpose but to sound an alarm when an intruder crossed it.

Dismissing the Projected vigilante clothing and materialising his armour took seconds at most, leaving him as prepared as could be.

With a deep breath, Shirou held Mjolnir out in front of him, channelling the Mysterious Power through the hammer, before he flew straight towards the Bounded Field.

It shattered upon impact, the conceptual weight of his attack too much for it to bear. Shirou could feel the entire Field collapse in an instant as he came down on the ground in a superhero landing.

For a few seconds afterwards, nothing happened...

Then every defensive measure seemed to activate at once.

His attack on the castle had begun, and his opponents were ready to meet him.

---

Oliver Waudenstad was an old and fat man, who was long past his rather meagre glory days and possessed a generic back-story no one cared about, not even the man himself.

For all that young Balefor kept going on about Magus-superiority, Waudenstad was painfully aware that he was pathetic, and that there were plenty of mundane people that were his superiors in every aspect of life.

Waudenstad came from a Rune-orientated family of full-blooded Magi, with a lineage dating back centuries. Nevertheless, his family did not possess a Crest, and neither did they possess the means or knowledge to create or obtain one.

That was in fact the main reason why his family was so focused on Runes, because at least in that field, they could preserve their knowledge for future generations. Runes could be used by anyone, so new discoveries in that field actually had use for descendants.

Waudenstad had realised very soon that his parents cared more about Runes than about him, that his other family-members cared more about Runes than about him, and that his friends and clients cared more about Runes than him.

Most shocking however, was the fact that deep inside, in a dark corner of his mind, he had to admit that he cared more about Runes than himself. Of course, he had laughed himself silly upon realising this.

So, as any person would do in his situation, he had thrown himself into his research, his only light in the dark, fully intend on studying and understanding Runes to the highest extent, to give his life at least some meaning.

He had used all means possible, without any regard for morality or any kind of laws, which had eventually, through a set of happenings that were of no importance now, led to him becoming a Sealing Designee after he was caught carving forbidden Runes into his grand-niece's body.

Becoming a Sealing Designee hadn't been much of a problem for him honestly. He had simply left for Japan with his old friend Richard Burgon and set up shop there, living the good life, far out of the reach of the Clocktower.

Their little scheme to use the gangs of this backwards country to obtain research-specimens had been a stroke of brilliance. Even though the study of Runes did not require a lot of test-subjects, it still needed a few, and the rest could be sold at the black market for incredible amounts of money.

Still, their surplus of specimens had just kept on growing as their scheme proved almost too successful.

Burgon and he had eventually concluded they had room for more people in their little group, other Magi that wanted to free themselves from the constraints of the Clocktower and wanted to conduct their experiments in peace.

Palerna and Alva had arrived a little while later, having been cast out by their families for researching Dead Apostles. It was not a field Waudenstad had any experience in, but he had encouraged the younger Magi regardless to continue their research once they arrived in Japan.

Those two were exactly what Burgon and he had been looking for. Smart, driven, ambitious, yet also loyal to the group that had provided them with protection and opportunities.

Recruitment had been a resounding success, one they had attempted to repeat, by inviting a young, but very talented man into their group. Granted, he was a murderer, a kinslayer even, but Burgon and Waudenstad had assumed they could keep him in line.

But then young Balefor had actually arrived, and Waudenstad had wondered if they hadn't been a little too optimistic in sending that boy an invitation as well.

Granted, he was very good at making Chimaeras and working with all kinds of living things, but his obsession with making Crests out of basic materials seemed a bit delusional, not to mention wasteful of his actual talents.

That was not even touching on the fact that the boy never bothered to form any kind of connection with them, instead choosing to view them as his benefactors and employers only. It was slightly unnerving even to see him skulk through the dark hallways all the time, never once striking up a casual conversation with anyone.

Still, the boy should be free to pursue his dreams, even if he was a little off. As long as he filled his quota of making useful things, he was allowed to chase after Crests and behave as detached and anti-socially as he wanted.

Who knew, Balefor might even succeed at making Crests one day. If that would be the case somewhere in the future, Waudenstad would have gone down on his knees and apologised for every doubt he ever had in the boy, before ordering a Crest for himself.

Life had been good for a while, just the five of them living the dream, doing whatever they wanted.

All good things had to come to an end though, and their end had arrived now, in the form of an armour-wearing, hammer-wielding monster of a man, who was smashing his way through Bounded Fields, traps, and Chimaeras alike as if they were mere sheets of paper.

Waudenstad had sent his familiars outside at once when he had felt the first Bounded Field go down, expecting a small army of Enforcers to be standing at their doorstep.

Instead, he had seen the aforementioned hammer-wielding monster making its way past all defences, brute-forcing himself a way to the castle.

Now, Waudenstad was very well aware that there were beings out there that could do such a thing. Barthomeloi and her ilk were renowned for their power, Zelretch would not even notice their feeble attempts at keeping him out, and the Apostle Ancestors would just laugh as they strolled up to the front door.

It made no sense at all for any of those beings to be attacking them though. The latter two would not care at all, while Barthomeloi could never just leave for a country like Japan without everyone in the Moonlit World hearing of it.

This person was clearly a new player on the field.

The weapon he was wielding was also quite interesting by the way. With the help of his most inconspicuous familiars, Waudenstad had managed to get a closer look, noticing Runes that seemed to be carved into the hammer.

Fortunately, Runes were Waudenstad's expertise, so he had been able to try his hand at translating them.

He didn't have the best visuals, and he didn't recognise most of the Runes for some reason, but what he had seen painted a very bad picture.

'Lift' 'Worthy' 'Thor'

Those were the words of which he was sure about the meaning, and they terrified him.

He didn't know if the mention of Thor was bluffing, blustering, or complete truth, but judging by the lightning bolts that were being thrown around, the comparison wasn't based on nothing.

It was quite clear that fighting was useless, and that resistance was futile. Even if the intruder wasn't in the weight class of the aforementioned truly powerful beings, they were clearly too strong for Waudenstad and his fellows to defeat.

They would have to flee.

He immediately informed his companions, hoping against hope that they would all stick together to get through this crisis. It was not to be though, as everyone promptly ran off on their own, save for Palerna and Alva who had stuck together like glue all the way to their room.

As expected, not a single one of them was interested in working together to resist the attack or flee in an orderly fashion. It was every man and woman for themselves now, as could be expected of Sealing Designees.

For all that they worked together in peaceful times, it was nothing but logical that they would abandon each other once the situation became difficult.

Waudenstad let out a dry laugh. "Birds of a feather flock together, until the cat comes."

An old truism that was proven correct once again.

Oh, the attacker had breached the gate of the castle already. Such incredible speed.

Waudenstad himself sprinted as fast as his feet could carry him, which wasn't very fast, towards his own Workshop, as he had several things that he still needed to take care of before he would allow himself to be found by the attacker.

As said before, he was old and fat, without any sort of fighting-prowess or even the physical condition to exert himself in any meaningful way for more than a minute. His Runes wouldn't help him either, as none of them were fit for attacking.

Without his companions here to aid him, the only possibility for him was either surrender, which meant torture and imprisonment, or something a lot more drastic.

Running into his private space, he hastily collected all of his research into a map and tidied his Workshop a bit, before grabbing a sheet of paper and a pen. Sitting down at his desk, he wrote a quick note for the attacker.

After that, he poured himself a glass of his best whisky and downed it in one shot. Then he poured himself another glass and another, until the bottle was half-empty. The bottle was then put down next to the note.

In an impulse, he also activated every single Bounded Field around his room. No sense in making it too easy for the intruder to enter his Workshop.

Then, as his last action, he reached into his secret drawer and pulled out a pill. Without another word, he put the pill into his mouth and bit on it, hearing it crack under the pressure of his teeth.

And as the world grew dark around him, Waudenstad felt… well, not at peace, but better than he had expected.

---

Shirou was breaking into the castle with almost insulting ease.

Any Bounded Fields present were easily destroyed with a swing of Mjolnir. Some of them he could even just ignore completely.

The traps that had been placed, all of them magical in nature, were easily detected with his nose and either avoided or destroyed as well with a well-placed Rune or burst of lightning.

The few Runes that he encountered on the way were of course the easiest to deal with.

Shirou was making excellent time and he should reach the castle in just under three minutes if he continued as he had, hopefully fast enough to stop the Magi from getting away through a secret passage or something. So far, nothing had been able to delay him, so he was reasonably confident he would make it in time...

'Grrrrrr'

Shirou paused in his rampage upon hearing a low growl, stopping his advance to see where the sound had come from. Most likely a guard dog of some kind…

Then Shirou laid eyes on the source of the growl, and his entire body went stiff with shock and anger.

It was a Chimaera!

An assembly of body parts from various animals, all mashed and stitched together to form a mockery of life. A tortured cumulation of Souls and parts that probably wished for death with every breath it took.

A regular Chimaera would have been bad enough, but what Shirou saw before him was not just a regular Chimaera, but a Chimaera with human body parts thrown into the mix as well.

The human face, still contorted in fear and pain, was clearly visible in the light of the moon, even if it had been mixed with dog teeth and cat eyes.

The Chimaera was not alone either. With his enhanced eyes, Shirou spotted far more shapes moving along the walls and over the gardens, all of them possessing at least one body part of a human.

How many people had been viciously torn apart to create this horde? How many men and women had died horrible deaths to sate the bloodlust and curiosity of these monsters inside this castle?

Shirou couldn't even begin to guess the number. It probably didn't even end with these Chimaeras. Had he not encountered a Dead Apostle made by these Magi? How many people had died to make that possible?

He had known of course that countless people had died over the years that the Magi had been running their cruel scheme, but to have it shoved into his face like this made him feel enraged.

Shirou rose Mjolnir, lightning already crackling along the hammer. He felt no remorse for what he was about to do. These people and animals were long gone, only some shards of their Souls remaining, and the only thing he could do for them was end their suffering and avenge their deaths.

The first Chimaera, perhaps sensing the danger it was in, yipped nervously, before jumping at Shirou and lashing out in what was presumably fear.

The Chimaera never came down from its jump again, as Shirou dodged the swipe of the claw and swung the hammer into its side, blasting it to smoking pieces.

Shirou took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his anger. One down, a hundred to go.

Then, the Magi would pay for this.

---

Richard Burgon was a man who was used to having things go his way. He liked being in control and usually managed to be, unless people like Emiya Kiritsugu or Lorelei Barthomeloi were around of course.

He had been born as the second son of a third branch of the Burgon-family, never intended for greatness or fame, but supposed to just muddle through life as best as he could. Contribute a bit to the family's honour, gain some knowledge, things like that.

Naturally, he hadn't accepted that. He wouldn't have been here, in this castle, if he had accepted it lying down.

He had done his best as a child and teenager to rise above what was expected of him, experimenting in many different branches and subjects, yet never finding something he was really interested in. He just couldn't seem to get through the beginning stages of his various fields, no matter what he tried.

He had even played around with the idea of joining a Grail War to gain some fame, before discarding that idea upon hearing both Emiya Kiritsugu and Kayneth El-Melloi were on the list of participants. He didn't have a death wish after all.

It was when he got appointed as the head of a team of researchers however that he actually found something that made his blood pump like nothing else: Managing others.

Most people hated the paperwork, the stress, and the constant soothing and managing of egos that came with having any sort of leading position in the Moonlit World, but Burgon loved it to pieces.

By the age of twenty, he was already running a fairly impressive network of people mutually benefitting from each other, exchanging information with each other and generally being useful.

That was where Burgon's skills laid, helping others achieve their potential and connecting them with each other, leading them with a gentle hand.

Too bad though that a second son of a third branch would never be allowed to hold any sort of real power in an environment like the Clocktower. It was all fine as long as he played around in the small leagues, but he was stopped long before he could amass any real influence or authority, every single time.

Eventually, when his dearest friend Oliver Waudenstad had been Sealed for his, well, not-exactly-legal experiments, Burgon had seen his chance to get out of this stifling environment and had accompanied Oliver to Japan, where they had started over.

Now finally released from his leash-holders at the Clocktower, Burgon had been free to build his network, make contacts, manage everyone who worked on the wrong side of the law, and much more.

He had been completely in his element, with people around him who followed his orders and with contacts that gladly took his advice on many subjects and fields.

In some way, they could be considered one big family.

Which made it a little painful to see the other four run off on their own as soon as Oliver had alerted them of the intruders, and his contacts shutting of their means of communication with him the moment he told them he was compromised.

It would seem his thoughts of family were just the delusions of an old man then.

He wasn't angry at the betrayals of those around him, merely sad. To see the people whom he had worked so hard for abandon him without a shred of hesitation, it made him feel… empty.

He no longer had any delusions however. His empire had fallen, and he was too old to ever even dream of building it up again.

The only thing left to him right now was to go and face these attackers with all the dignity he could muster, and then die in the fight. Perhaps he could even get answers to several questions while he was at it.

Burgon hurried towards the walls above the gate, going in the complete opposite direction of the others. Once there, he looked down at the yard before the castle, only to behold an amazing and terrifying sight.

Chimaera's, dozens of them, were throwing themselves against the armoured form of the attacker, their claws out, their teeth bared, and their eyes and postures full of rage and absolute discard for their own lives.

This all paled however, in comparison to the intruder themselves.

He or she was swinging around an indiscernible weapon with reckless abandon, the weapon itself coated in lightning, radiating overwhelming power that felt oppressive even from where Burgon was standing.

Every swing sent multiple Chimaeras flying through the air in half-burned pieces, along with creating powerful gusts of wind that upended large swaths of earth. The lightning bolts were springing forth in every direction.

The intruder's free hand meanwhile was casting Runes at everything that moved, sending bursts of flames, gales of wind, sprouts of water, and chunks of rock flying at their enemies, sometimes forgoing magic all together and just punching a Chimaera in range, the blow enough to kill the unfortunate beast instantly.

This… this was something he would expect from an Apostle Ancestor, from Barthomeloi when she was in one of her mood-swings, from Zelretch himself even, not from a random Enforcer or Executor.

What on Earth was attacking their castle right now?

Whatever it was, Burgon knew he stood no chance against it in conventional battle. Trickery was needed here if he wanted to survive for even a few seconds.

His previous idea of dying with dignity was completely forgotten. Never mind how old he was, he wanted to live on, to not get captured by whatever that was. He had to delay it somehow and get out of the castle as soon as he could.

Seeing the attacker rapidly approach the gate, not hindered in the slightest even by the lethal defences they had painstakingly put up closer to the walls, Burgon ran down the stairs again and made his way over to the gate.

Just as he rounded the corner, the gate, the hard-wooden, iron-and-magic-reinforced gate, was smashed of its hinges and reduced to pieces, seemingly in one blow, with… a rather small hammer?

Burgon blinked once in stupefaction. The weapon that had caused the immense destruction he had just seen outside, that had sent lightning everywhere, turned out to be nothing more than an oversized hobbyist-tool.

It would almost have been comical, if said weapon wasn't clearly so powerful.

Then Burgon's eyes went from the weapon to its wielder, and he once more froze in fear.

Baleful golden eyes stared at him from a face half-hidden by a mask. Glittering armour with blue lines across the surface covered the entire body and a similar helmet was set upon the head of the attacker. Power was rolling off them in waves, the static electricity almost unbearable.

Was it just him though, or did the attacker indeed stand at least one head smaller than Burgon himself?

Japanese no doubt.

Which only made this worse.

"Who are you?" Burgon called out, sounding far braver than he felt, silently beginning to activate several previously installed Runic Arrays. "What are you doing here?"

"…" The figure didn't react at first, simply staring at Burgon, before he replied in a slightly muffled voice. "My name is of no importance to you. I am only here to put an end to the atrocities you are committing."

"W-Why?" Burgon asked, almost dumbstruck. "What concern is it of you what we do here? Why would you care about what your fellow Magi do?"

"I am here to rescue the innocent people you abducted for your experiments and to make sure you pay for the crimes you have committed."

What? What kind of utter nonsense…?

"Innocent people? Crimes? You mean us grabbing those insects from the streets for our research? Allowing them to participate in a purpose far greater than anything they could have ever achieved themselves? Those aren't crimes. We are doing nothing but using the means available to us to make progress on our projects. I mean, who cares anyway?"

"I do."

...

A hero?

He was standing in front of a hero? This guy wasn't attacking them for their research, for their money, for cashing in on their bounties, for revenge, or because they were on his territory, but because he wanted to be a hero?

"Pfft, Ah, hahahahahahahaha!" Burgon laughed aloud, though he never took his eyes of his opponent. "Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!"

His laughter echoed through the hallway, but his opponent didn't move a muscle in response.

"Some goody-two shoes. Oh my God, what a joke." Burgon giggled, getting the worst of his laughter under control. "Such power, and you are a goody-two shoes."

"Call me whatever you want, but I'm ending this here, tonight."

"Because you are more powerful than us, right?" The old Magus suddenly sneered, his humour making place for anger. "You think you can just enforce your rules on us-"

"I enforce only the law and the rules of morality." The attacker cut him off. "I have long since gotten past any moral dilemma about exerting power over others. You are evil, so you must be stopped."

"But why?" Burgon repeated. "Why would you care about people so far below you? It would be one thing if you wanted something from us, or if you lived for the thrill of battle even, but why are the mundane so important to you?"

There was silence for a few heartbeats, before the attacker let out a sigh. "It is not something I would expect you to understand, but I feel the innocent must be protected. People like your victims must be saved whenever it is possible. And… I must repent for crimes of my own."

…This guy, with his immense power, really was some kind of hero. Burgon didn't understand, and he doubted he wanted to understand. The explanation he received wasn't worth anything anyway.

There was nothing more to gain from continuing this conversation. The defences in the hallway had been activated in full and it was time to blow this fool away.

"Even with all of your power, you are still weak." The old man sneered. "And that is why you will fail."

With that, he activated every spell and trap in the hallway, before turning around and running away.

---

Shirou had fully expected an attack after his conversation with the old Magus was finished, so when the spells suddenly started coming down, he wasn't surprised in the slightest.

He had to admit though that the defences were quite impressive. It wasn't nearly enough to stop him however, and he immediately pursued the fleeing Magus.

The bursts of fire were easily ignored, the gales of wind easily dodged, the sudden spell meant to pin him in place and paralyse him was overcome by brute force, and his Magic Resistance easily dealt with any Magecraft targeting him directly, such as organ-rupturing spells, skin-flaying spells, and several versions of a Rune he recognised as 'Laguz', the Rune of illness, despair, and madness.

All those defences and many more he couldn't discern at present were thrown around, seemingly more every second, yet with Runes and rapid usage of Mjolnir's ability to block Magical effects, Shirou got through it without a hitch.

The hallway, not so much. The walls now had massive holes, the ceiling was partially collapsed, and the gate could never be repaired again.

After passing the dangerous part of the hallway, Shirou broke out into a sprint, rapidly catching up with the old Magus, who was already panting in exhaustion. It didn't take more than a few seconds for Shirou to overtake him.

As a last-ditch effort, the Magus grabbed a gem from his pocket and threw it at Shirou, forcing the redhead to jump back lest he be caught in the effects.

After having learned what Tohsaka was capable of with those gems of hers, he wasn't exactly eager to experience such effects himself, even if his Magic Resistance was probably high enough to negate or at least largely deter those effects.

The result however was nothing more than an explosion that barely cracked the stone of the walls and floor. Not even a single esoteric effect or anything could be detected. Seeing this, Shirou felt confident enough to simply ignore the next two gems, walking through the explosions without reacting to them, something that clearly shocked the old Magus a great deal.

"Wha-? How are you-? This can't be-?" The man brabbled, utterly surprised that his little trap and his gems had failed, not even resisting when Shirou grabbed him by the throat.

"Who are you?" Shirou asked once he had the man at eye-height, channelling the Mysterious Power in an effort to Hypnotise the man. "Where are the other Magi in this castle?"

"I… I am… Rich-Richard Burgon. I-I-I… NO!" The man seemed to fall under Shirou's Hypnosis at first, but managed to push it off after that one sentence. "Fool, you might have caught me, but you'll never-"

Shirou cut him off with a blow to the back of the head, knocking him out, before throwing him into his pocket dimension and continuing on his way.

Following his nose for a minute, he arrived at a room with a closed door, with several defensive spells laid over it. Shirou just destroyed them and the door with a blow from Mjolnir however, and entered the room behind them.

What he saw inside, was both expected and unexpected.

The operation tables with bloodstains, the many knives, and the jars with unidentifiable objects were expected, just like the many pieces of paper and the tomes lying scattered everywhere. The usual stuff one would find in a Magus' Workshop, along with unsavoury elements that fit these Magi in particular.

The dead man in the corner of the room was not expected however.

The man was seated on a chair, with his head resting on the desk in front of him, wearing a lab coat and glasses. The face was turned towards Shirou, allowing him to see the foam around the man's lips, as well as the strained muscles around the eyes, which told Shirou everything he needed to know.

The Magus had committed suicide by poison, using cyanide or something similar most likely, to escape capture.

Shirou frowned for a moment, but ultimately, he didn't really feel anything about it. This man, just like Oni, had not been innocent or in any way redeemable. If it had been his choice to kill himself, then that was that.

Shirou also noticed a very full folder and a note next to the body, but he decided to save those two for later.

Sprinting out of the room, he once more caught a scent coming from close-by, two scents actually.

Following his nose, while avoiding or powering through any traps in his way, he eventually reached yet another room. This one however, though it had a closed door, did not have any active Magical defences around it.

Shirou promptly kicked in the door, hearing voices cry out in shock, before he had to dodge two spells coming from inside.

Running inside, Shirou was faced with two more Magi, a male and a female, these ones clearly Southern-European.

"I suppose I can't convince you to surrender?" Shirou opened the conversation, hoping against hope for a peaceful resolution, yet still preparing himself for imminent combat.

"Knowing what will happen to us if we do?" The man snarled, grabbing a stone with a Rune carved on it in each hand, while the woman aimed several pre-charged spells at him. "Forget it, bounty-hunter."

With that, the attacks were launched towards Shirou, who, again with laughable ease, simply batted them aside with Mjolnir, trusting his partner to be able to handle it. The spells faded out, but the stones caused considerable explosions, again destroying much of the walls.

Proving themselves to be more experienced than Richard Burgon, the two in front of him didn't bother with surprise, instead immediately activating a solid barrier between Shirou and themselves, basically dividing the Workshop in two, before grabbing the suitcases they had been packing and making a run for it, towards another exit.

Noticing that the barrier had clearly been very hasty and shoddy work, Shirou coated his fist in lightning and smashed it to pieces.

Moving quickly, Shirou cut off their escape route by placing himself before the door, facing the Magi again, who looked at him with… not fear, he noticed with surprise, but awe and envy instead.

"So it is actually possible to reach such a level of power, even in the Modern Age." The woman breathed. "Truly, we are blessed to see one of your skills in action."

"Indeed, thank you for showing us this." The man agreed, looking equally in awe.

Shirou himself however just raised an eyebrow. Had these people never heard of figures like Lorelei Barthomeloi, Aozaki Aoko, and Zelretch? Or even people several ranks below them? He was quite sure he hadn't done anything they couldn't easily do as well.

Shirou's contemplation was broken however when the man suddenly opened a cage standing in the corner of the room, from which several of the Dead started to emerge!

"What is this?" Shirou asked sharply, only to receive a giggle in return.

"Just the result of our experiments." The woman smirked. "We even managed to create a true Dead Apostle, you know, even if it was almost by accident. Shame though that it escaped before we could even begin to study it. Who knows where it is now?"

Dead. Killed by Shirou in fact, after it had killed dozens of people itself.

Shirou could see now, even clearer than before, that these people had no conscience or mercy. In their hearts, there was nothing but selfishness and cruelty. They had to be stopped at all costs.

Without another word, Shirou shot a blast of the Cleansing Power at the Dead, not even breaking eye-contact with the Magi as he did so.

As expected of a power that purged everything that Shirou considered to be unnatural, it instantly destroyed the Dead, reducing them to ash, and Shirou couldn't help but enjoy the expressions of the faces of his opponents.

"Y-Y-You! Damn you to hell!" The woman cried, before opening her jacket, revealing more pre-charged spells, which she promptly used to bring down a bombardment on Shirou's position.

Not really seeing anything dangerous among the spells, which were mostly of the elemental kind, Shirou nevertheless used a basic shielding Rune to mitigate the worst of it.

At the same time however, the man ran straight at him, having brandished a rather beautiful katana, a Mystic Code, that had the ability to cut through Magically Reinforced material at the cost of being less effective against mundane objects.

The man, whose name was Allesandro Alva, had stolen the sword from Frank Falworn, a renowned Mystic Code-producer, before fleeing his home country after being cast out of his family for violating the rules of...

…What?

Shirou almost recoiled in surprise, at a loss as to how he suddenly knew all that, while an almost perfect copy of the sword materialised on the slopes of a hill deep inside his very being.

Resolving to figure it out later, Shirou engaged Alva, quickly slapping the sword to the side before, softly, elbowing him in the stomach.

Alva went down with a pained grunt, letting go of the weapon immediately. The woman cried out in concern as she saw him fall, before glaring at Shirou and ripping off her dress, tearing it to little pieces after she'd taken it off her body.

Shirou blushed at the sight of the woman clad in only her underwear, but the reason for her action became clear when he saw the Runes on the pieces of cloth.

"Just something I created in case of a situation like this." The woman snarled, pressing the pieces together and using Alteration to make a ball out of them, before throwing it at him, the ball exploding soon after.

Shirou immediately held his arms in front of his face, bracing himself and weathering the explosion, even as the ground around him was broken to pieces.

It did not end with the explosions however. The moment those stopped and the smoke was the only thing that remained, Alva suddenly came running towards Shirou again, having taken off his shirt, also littered with Runes, and holding it in front of him.

"Got you now!" He cried in triumph.

Shirou's eyes widened as he recognised the binding-Runes in the array on the shirt. The man meant to trap Shirou with it so that they could gain the time to get away.

Seeing the man almost be upon him, Shirou didn't think, he just acted, taking a step forward and slashing down with the katana he suddenly held in his hand, cutting through the cloth as if it weren't even there.

…

All three froze, their gazes simultaneously moving from the katana still lying on the ground to the one in Shirou's hand, the two being identical for all intents and purposes.

Even Shirou himself, the one who had Projected the weapon, was momentarily in shock. Projecting Mystic Codes with such accuracy was supposed to be impossible! How had this happened?

Realising he was being foolish, Shirou turned his attention back to his opponents, only to discover that neither Magi had made another move.

"Well, that was just about everything we had." The woman confessed, looking a little lost. "That was meant to deal with, like, twelve men, more even, but you just ignored it."

"If this was everything, are you willing to surrender now?" Shirou asked, slightly more hopeful they would. That hope sunk though, when Alva shook his head.

"We will not be taken prisoner. We refuse to let ourselves become trophies or test subjects." He said, before he and the woman held up their hands, both revealing rings with Runes carved in them. "Allow us to end this now. Farewell, intruder."

Shirou crouched slightly, his weapon coming up again. If these Magi were so confident those spells would end the battle, even after seeing him in action just now, they must be quite impressive. Better be prepared for everything.

Despite his caution though, Shirou found himself completely caught off guard when the Magi suddenly aimed their rings… at each other!

"What are you…?" Shirou yelled, launching himself forward to prevent the spells from activating, but despite his speed, he didn't make it in time.

The Runes flashed, beams of light were shot, and the Magi fell backwards, all perfectly symmetrical, while Shirou stepped in-between them a fraction of a second too late to stop what was happening.

For a moment, he stood frozen, a dead body on either side of him, their chests slashed open, their throats slit, and their heads caved in by their own spells.

They had committed suicide rather than be captured, just like the old man from before.

Shirou took a deep breath to calm himself down, feeling some sadness over the preventable deaths, but he shook it off quickly. He had no time for deeper contemplations, not when the last Magus was still at large.

Hopefully, Shirou could change that into another capture, instead of a casualty.

---

Running. He was running and he wasn't going to stop.

He had called it, he had so called it, the previous day already. No, longer even. He had known from the very beginning that they had been overstepping their bounds by going after a fellow Magus, even if it was an Asian Hedge-Mage without influence, friends, or family.

Why had he never said anything? Had he been overcome by greed? Had he perhaps been subjected to peer-pressure? Was he simply not in tune with himself enough to understand what his gut had been telling him?

Regardless, he hadn't said anything, and now they paid the price.

In all honesty, Balefor had no idea what was going on at the moment. He only knew that he was going to get out of the castle as fast as he could and hope that the intruders were delayed enough by the others to miss him getting away.

On his way to one of the secret tunnels, he had stopped at his Workshop to quickly grab as much of his research as he could carry, something he had mixed feelings about.

On one hand, he really didn't want to repeat his research, so he needed to take his papers with him, but on the other hand, it had cost him precious minutes he could probably hardly afford to lose.

When the entrance of the secret tunnel came in sight however, he could only be glad that he had made that little stop. Clearly, it hadn't cost him his head-

'SWOOSH'

Hearing something come at him from behind at high speeds, Balefor threw himself to the side, expecting it to be something very painful and debilitating. Most likely a spell or a knife or something.

To his surprise however, it turned out to be a rather small hammer, one that flew high above the place where his head would have been if he hadn't jumped out of the way. It would never have hit him like that.

His confusion about the poor-seeming throw turned to horror however when the hammer continued its flight and struck the wall above the entrance with such force that the tunnel promptly collapsed, cutting off his escape-route.

The deceptively small weapon then suddenly flew back, disappearing behind Balefor's back with another swishing sound.

The Magus jerked his neck around with an audible crack, the rest of his body following a moment later, as he finally laid eyes on his pursuer.

An armoured, masked figure stood several dozen metres behind him, the hammer now held in an outstretched hand. The armour and helmet looked intimidating and very high-quality, making the mask appear rather poor in comparison.

If the armour and helmet were intimidating however, then the figure's aura could only be called terrifying. The sheer pressure was enough to almost force Balefor to his knees.

Those eyes however, those golden eyes with the blue flashes, were the worst of all, pinning him in place with a glare that seemed to cut into his Soul.

If this guy was here now, did that mean that the others…?

"You really are the last of them." The figure mused aloud, confirming Balefor's suspicions and making his heart sink into his stomach. "They all told me nothing useful. I suppose you won't tell me anything either?"

"N-No, of course not." Balefor proclaimed, internally wincing at the stutter. "Damn you, wretch. If you want me to talk, call the others who attacked the castle and prepare your torture. I'm ready for anything you can throw at me."

"I am alone actually, and I do not plan on torturing anyone." The figure huffed. "But I will indeed take you down now. Please, do not die on me."

Balefor blinked once when the figure emitted a gust of wind, shutting his eyes for but half-a-second, yet when he opened them again, the figure was already in front of him.

Poor Balefor didn't even have time to be surprised before a backhand sent him sprawling to the ground, his head feeling like someone had split it open with an axe.

He tried to defend himself, but it was futile. The pain prevented him from Casting any spells and he carried no weapons, meaning he was completely helpless.

Balefor could do nothing to hold his opponent back and couldn't resist even when he was seized by the throat and lifted into the air.

"Who are you?" His assailant then spoke, his voice reverberating with…something. "Why are you here in this castle?"

"I-I-I am Vincent… Balefor." The Magus ground out, not entirely understanding why but feeling like the man in front of him had to know that. "I-I am h-here b-b-because I got a S-Sealing D-Designation and t-the E-Enforcers are after m-m-m-me…"

Why was he telling this to his opponent? Why was he talking after having sworn not to do that?

It was probably because the figure was his good… his g-good friend.

Except he was no friend! He was an enemy!

With shock, Balefor realised that he was somehow being Hypnotised. This guy was trying to break into his mind and force him to obey!

"NO! W-What are you doing to me?" Balefor yelled, frantically struggling against the figure's grip, yet failing to even make him loosen his hold. "Get out of my head! Hypnosis doesn't work on Magi! Who are you?!"

"It seems to work reasonably well." The figure remarked. "Though not anymore perhaps, and I am loathe to completely break people's minds, so I'll just find the answers myself."

Find the answers himself? Working reasonably well?

"What the fu-" Was everything he got out before the vigilante swung his, mercifully empty, fist, punching Balefor right on the jaw.

Pain exploded in his head, and everything went black.

---

Shirou watched with deep, deep satisfaction as the last Magus fell into unconsciousness after he'd been socked on the jaw, and it was with just as much satisfaction that he put the man into the Vault. The hardest part of tonight's job was finally over.

The Magi were either captured or dead, and the castle was secure. Now all that remained was rescuing the prisoners and destroying the Magi's research and Workshops.

Taking a few minutes to familiarise himself with the layout of the castle, Shirou eventually found his way back to the chamber of the old Magus who had killed himself before Shirou had even as much as laid eyes on him.

The man still lied there, head on the desk, lab coat on, the foam still on his lips.

Shirou meticulously searched the entire room, disposing of every Bounded Field and other defensive measure that he could find. During this search, he found five still-living people, who were promptly placed into the Vault as well.

He wasn't entirely happy he had to do so, but he could hardly allow them to wake up from their induced sleep to find themselves in the middle of a castle that was probably still rife with traps and defences, not to mention the remaining Chimaeras still prowling around.

After having thoroughly combed over the room, confirming there was nothing else of note around, the young Magus turned his attention towards the old man sitting on the chair, as well as the thick stack of papers and the note beside him.

There were no noticeable defences there, so Shirou picked up the note to read it.

To the intruder currently breaking into the castle,

Congratulations, you have found us. You have tracked us down successfully and are no doubt in the process of taking us and our entire project down. My sincerest compliments for your efforts and your victory.

My name is Oliver Waudenstad, a name you may immediately forget, for it is not of any importance. In front of you however, next to my head, lies something that I hope will receive more consideration from you.

Those papers contain all of my research into Runes, as well as all discoveries I made in other fields and a few things I copied from the others.

Now, you might be planning to destroy it, but I must beg you to reconsider. Please just keep it, somewhere in a box in an attic if necessary, but don't destroy it. I don't care for my body, but my research is the only thing I have ever achieved, and I would rather see it preserved.

Should you be planning to use it for yourself, that is fine as well of course.

I have told you my name, but not yet those of my fellows. In exchange for sparing my research, I will provide you with them.

Our unofficial leader is called Richard Burgon, the only one here of similar age to mine. He doesn't really do any research, but he does have a stash of Gems fit for Magecraft under the loose board under his bed. He is the one who arranged everything for us, such as clients and information. He has an extensive network, and his room might contain many reports and papers that hold information you would consider very interesting.

Vincent Balefor is the youngest of us and mostly focuses on the making of the Chimaeras you have probably faced by now, as well as a private project concerning the making of Crests, using the Souls or the blood veins or something like that from mundane people. He called it an easy way of obtaining more Magical Energy.

Meire Palerna and Allesandro Alva are Southern-European and focus mostly on Dead Apostles. They are wanted by the Church and the Clocktower alike for that research but managed to escape after their families threw them out.

We are all Sealing Designees, wanted by the Clocktower, so turning us in will get you a nice reward. Don't forget to take our bodies with you, you might need them as proof.

Once more, I plead with you to spare my research, in exchange for my information if nothing else.

Was signed,

Oliver Waudenstad, foolish old man.

Well, that was surprising.

Putting the note down again, Shirou quickly scanned a few pages of the man's research, frowning at the cruelties that had been committed for it, but also acknowledging that this man had made impressive progress.

It was however still for the best to burn it. It had been obtained through cruel means and he had no use for it. The old man had been a monstrous bastard anyway, so Shirou saw no reason to listen to his request.

Without another thought, he set the stack of papers ablaze.

The benches, tables, knives, and other equipment would not be spared either. Shirou picked up one of the scalpels, the oldest looking one, and used Structural Analysis on it, just to see what would happen.

The feedback he received definitely left a bad taste in his mouth. Shirou could clearly see the atrocities, the horrors committed with this scalpel, the many people that had died, begging for mercy, just to satiate a monster's bloodlust.

Worse, he was pretty sure he could dissect people himself now, by drawing on the history of the scalpel, making his frown deepen slightly.

In a corner of his mind, he was aware that his reactions were rather mild for the circumstances, but he couldn't help it. Dead bodies and gruesome sights didn't bother him anymore, not after the fire.

He then threw the knife away and put the body into the Vault, before promptly setting fire to the entire Workshop.

Combining the Rune of Fire with the Cleansing Power, Shirou created Purifying Flames that quickly burned away everything in the room.

This was only the first step however, as he still had four other Workshops to visit. Maybe three, if Palerna and Alva shared one.

Which turned out to be the case. They shared a Workshop, one that was far more disgusting and unsettling than Waudenstad's.

Dead bodies of all kinds were everywhere. There were bodies that had been partially turned into Ghouls, bodies that still moved even in death, bodies that seemed half-way through a transformation into Dead Apostles, and many more abominations that should never have existed.

He didn't possess the means to save these people, so in the end, he put them out of their misery, even if he absolutely despised having to do so.

This time, Shirou didn't bother with going over the room. After removing the bodies of the Magi and the few surviving people, who had been locked away in cages like cattle, he simply burned everything to ash.

The Workshop and every bit of research of Vincent Balefor suffered the same fate. Shirou had thrown one glance, just one, on the man's research, but that had been enough to know that it was too vile to continue to exist.

He had been the worst of them by far in terms of numbers of casualties, and paradoxically also the one that had achieved the least.

Burgon however, possessed a Workshop that, against all expectations, did not contain any kind of evidence of immoral activities. It seemed like a regular office belonging to a simple manager working from nine until five.

Of course, after reading several papers and agendas, Shirou discovered that Burgon was not innocent at all. In fact, he had been one of the people in charge of a rather large part of the black market in Eastern-Asia.

Burgon hadn't committed any atrocities himself, but he had clearly enabled many of them.

Shirou ended up keeping the papers. There was plenty of information on them after all, including but not limited to names and locations of other Sealing Designees, the names and positions of Lords that dealt under the table, and even several Dead Apostle-hideouts.

The papers also spoke of associates of the Magi, associates that might come to visit the castle when they noticed it had gone silent.

He'd have to trap them somehow.

Shirou eventually ended up moving everything in the room to his Vault. He would have to go over it all later, preferably with a cup of black tea.

As for the gems he'd found under the bed, well, he had a possible destination in mind for them.

After having thoroughly gone over the Workshops, Shirou meticulously burned everything in the castle that seemed even slightly touched by Magecraft, just to be certain nothing harmful was left.

The moment he was done with burning everything, Shirou went outside, where he let himself fall backwards onto the grass with a huge sigh of relief, allowing himself to feel the exhaustion of the past hours.

It wasn't that the fighting and searching had been all that difficult or energy-consuming, rather it was the constant need to remain utterly focused on his task that had sapped his energy.

It was like finishing a five-hour exam at the highest levels of university. Not physically exhausting, but certainly enough to completely drain anyone.

Still, now that he laid here, he had a perfect opportunity to test just what had happened with that katana back there.

Closing his eyes, Shirou held out a hand and focused on the picture he had in his mind, willing it to come into existence, doing his very best to remember everything about the weapon.

'Judging the concept of creation'

'Hypothesizing the basic structure'

'D**lica*ing th* co***sit*on **ter*al'

A weight settled in his hand, and when Shirou opened his eyes, he saw that it was indeed the katana from before, once again Projected.

Only, it seemed much further removed from the original than the one he had projected mid-combat, much more imperfections everywhere.

Shrugging his shoulders, Shirou dismissed the weapon. He'd figure it out whenever he had time.

The only thing left now was installing a warning system in case an associate of the Magi would visit the castle, and then adequately hiding said system, something that took him three hours to complete.

It was fortunate he'd had an early start this night, or he would have had to hurry to make it back home in time to properly welcome Sakura when she would arrive in the morning.

It was worth it though. If anyone tried to enter the castle, he would be notified immediately.

After a quick stop at the police station to deliver the survivors, around a dozen of them, and ensuring they would be found and aided, Shirou flew up into the air again, now on his way back to Fuyuki-City.

As he flew, it slowly began to dawn on him.

He had finally taken down his nemeses!

He, Emiya Shirou, had finally completed his mission.

He had ended the Magi's reign of terror throughout Japan and saved hundreds, if not thousands of innocent lives. He should be feeling victorious and happy with himself.

Yet, he didn't. Rather, he felt as if his job was far from over.

Perhaps he had not processed his victory yet?

Perhaps it hadn't sunk in?

Maybe he would actually feel triumphant after he had slept for a few hours?

Shirou didn't know, but he was quite sure he wasn't supposed to have such a hollow feeling in his stomach after a night like this…

---

Sakura hadn't had an inkling something was wrong when she had woken up that morning.

When she entered the Matou-estate however, after coming back from dinner at Senpai's place, she found her grandfather standing in the hallway, clearly waiting for her, if his glare at her was any indication.

Sakura hated how her body seized up once she laid eyes on him, hated how every bit of defiance melted away, but she couldn't help it. Years of training had integrated that response deep into her mind and though she had made some progress, it all seemed to fall away once her grandfather's attention was on her.

"Sakura, dear granddaughter." The man hissed at her, clearly upset by something. "I see you are back from that boy. How was it?"

"Uhm, i-it was… fun?" Sakura answered, her voice almost inaudible as she shrunk away from his gaze, not understanding why he was asking that question. He had never cared before.

"Fun?" Zouken mused aloud as his eyes flashed in rage, and Sakura understood he was angrier than she had ever seen him be. "So while I work hard here on preparing you to be the head of the family, you are out having fun?"

"A-A-Ah, I-I-I'm s-s-sorry, gr-grandfather." Sakura stuttered.

Zouken's glare intensified, before he suddenly lunched forward and roughly grabbed her arm, dragging her along, making her cry out in surprise and pain.

"No more fun for you, young lady." Zouken hissed. "I see now that I have given you far too much freedom over the past years. No more. If I ever see you with that boy or with that tomboyish girl again, you'll find them next to you in the pit. Understood?"

Sakura could feel the blood drain from her face. Grandfather would kill them in such a horrific way? She-She couldn't allow that.

"And don't think you can sneak behind my back either." The monster continued. "I can track your every move using the Worms inside of you. Remember, one conversation with them, and you can spend a night listening to their screams."

He pulled her into the basement, closing the door and extinguishing the torches, sinking them in darkness as Sakura felt her heart crumble.

---

Cut. We end it here.

So, one part of the plot ends, with the Magi now down. It might seem a little anti-climactic, but from what I read in reviews, I think you already expected as much. I tried throwing in a few battles, which are possible because Shirou wants to take them alive, but in the end, only the Chimaeras and the two Dead Apostle researchers actually last for more than a few seconds.

I also tried giving the Magi a little more character, to flesh some of them out, but I don't think it really worked.

Zouken is going wild. His Worms are dying, and his grandchildren are becoming rebellious. He has finally snapped now, and Sakura is paying the price.

And no, Zouken cannot actually track Sakura with those Worms, he's bluffing, but Sakura doesn't know that.

Edit: I know I said Zouken's bluffing, but some people have informed me he just might not be. For the purpose of this story however, he is bluffing and actually not capable of tracking Sakura in any way.

Also prepare for Ayako getting more involved and Rin receiving a gift.

And of course, we have Waver arriving in Japan and going to the castle.

Ah well, it will probably be alright, right guys?

Also many thanks to my beta-readers, who keep checking my chapters. Crazylich79, liamrodhudson331, and Woggie.

Thanks for reading. Don't forget Discord.

---

Omake continues

CrazyLich79 was sharpening his knife with a bone, his bone, very meticulously, carefully thinking things over as he did so.

He had one chance, just one, to get this right. If he failed, not only would he have Ted after him, but perhaps also several fans that wanted more of Ted's story.

Lich knew very well he was but a simple lich, without a lot of muscle mass, and though magic kept him from falling apart, it would not help in a confrontation with a determined writer and his fans, especially since making the Author's corner on Discord would allow Ted to quickly replace him with another perhaps less efficient Editor, and with him having hired another person for Ted to ask for criticism in the worst case scenario….yeah, he shot himself in the foot right there. "Pro moves right there, past me."

No, he would have to pick his time with care. Fortunately, he was smart enough for that.

Just after the next chapter was finished, then he would strike. Ted would be tired and spend, not focused on his surroundings, while the fans would be satisfied for the moment, and wouldn't notice anything amiss.

Ah, the joys of having such a big brain…well, he was a lich so technically he didn't have a brain, but still, it was the thought that counts as he had come to learn(read: beat into his skull to preserve the last dredges of his pride and self-worth). At least immortality came with some perks.

Sneaking into Ted's room wouldn't be difficult, he knew how to get there, and there was no one in his way except for Ted's rabbit, Ted Junior.

Ted Junior was a quiet Beast, and Lich had never been able to get a read on it. It didn't really matter though, it was just a fluffball.

First however, the knife needed to be really sharp, for a quick blow. It would be embarrassing if it failed to pierce after all.

---

Ted away.