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"Godō" - Regular Speech

'My Everyday life…!' - Thoughts

"God Slayer!" - Heretic God/Powered Up Campione speech

"Fire!" - Magic/Authority Use

Beta'd By BigCC

Chapter 23: Sorceress Eleanor Piper and the Grimoire of Garmr

Rebecca gaped in horror at her great-aunt, utterly disbelieving at the situation. Eleanor Piper, a woman known for her sharp tongue, harsh disposition, political savvy, and weakness as a Hearth Witch, was in fact a sorceress? For how long? How could such a thing have gone unnoticed?

Sorcerers and sorceresses used completely different magics compared to Witches, Mages, Hime-Miko, Campione and Heretic Gods. Whether it be Hearth Magic, Hermetic Magic, Divine Magic or even Death Magic, all of the types of magic used by the vast majority of the magic users of the world were born from the world itself and drew upon the power of those natural forces, being at one with the world and part of the forces that first created it.

Sorcery was something vastly different. It was, to dumb it down to its absolute basics, evil magic. By its very nature, the power of sorcery went against the natural flow of the world and perverted it, often times damaging the world, its natural energies, and its creatures with its very practice. Those who sought this power were uniformly the most selfish and heartless of people, those who gladly destroyed the world around them, killing and violating everything within their reach, as long as it offered them even the slightest step closer to their goals.

Regular magic and the abilities of Witches were cast using mana, magical power, Od or whatever local colloquialism that any given caster chose to use. The Divine Authorities of Campione and Heretic Gods were cast using both regular magical energy and/or divine power, the same holding true for Hime-Miko. Certain school of witchcraft used other types of energy to cast spells; tantric energy for Tantric Witches and lingering death energy for Murder Witches, for example.

Sorcery also drew on magical power as well, but it had to be paid with additional costs. In many cases sorcery drew on the life-force of anything nearby, killing and sickening all life near the user, sometimes even poisoning the land itself as it drew away its ability to support life. Even more dangerous were the effects sorcery had its caster, slowly chipping away at their sanity, morality, and health as they used it. The more the caster used sorcery, the less moral, sane and healthy they became. It often started with small, unnoticeable changes, but all right-thinking casters agreed that it was impossible to avoid the erosion of a person's soul caused by wielding such fell energies.

According to ancient legends, several thousand years ago, a sorcerer had been responsible for the destruction of an entire country, down to the land itself sinking beneath the sea, after using sorcery to summon and bind several Heretic Gods using grimoires. It had taken an alliance of all the living Campione in Europe at the time to slay the madmen and defeat the Heretic Gods, which had been driven mad by their summoning and binding.

Ever since, a standing order and tradition had been made and shared amongst all practitioners of the arcane arts: let not a sorcerer live.

There was a recent resurgence in sorcery starting in America during the Prohibition Period, where the idle rich and morally bankrupt of the upper class began using sorcery to alleviate their tedium. How this occurred was due to the other reason sorcery continued its insidious existence: even one without magical ability could learn to wield it. All that was required was a particular ritual that drew out the very life-force from other living beings and a sorcerer would gain a portion of that energy in raw magical power. Considering the state of affairs in the 'Roarin' Twenties' with men and women disappearing left and right due to the various conflicts with the mafia, and it understandable why a few more going missing would go unnoticed by the world at large.

This had lead to a clandestine war in the shadows that had lasted for over eighty years by this point, as the regular mages of America had attempted to do their duty and eradicate the stigma of sorcery from their country. Up until a decade previously, that war had been pretty much a deadlock. Then, the Campione John Pluto Smith had slain the Heretic God Tezcatlipoca and become the second of the 'young generation' of the current Campione, and had formed the Sorcerous Sacrilege Investigation Mage Association in order to more effectively fight against the sorcerers.

Considering it had been a sorcerer that had summoned Tezcatlipoca in the first place, Smith's motives were quite obvious.

"Rebecca, stand back!" Yue shouted, planting herself in front of the shocked Hearth Witch like a shield. "Foul sorceress! How dare you show yourself openly?!"

"You pathetic wench! Hundreds of years of work, utterly ruined!" Eleanor snarled. The sickening aura that wreathed around her intensified, making the Daoist mage grimace, even as she firmed her stance. "You will regret this interference, mark my words! Count your lucky stars that I must flee for the moment!"

"I think not." a sharp voice said from behind Rebecca, who turned her head to see Erica Blandelli standing there, a scowl on her face. "No wielder of sorcery is permitted to live. By the authority of the ancient covenant, I pass judgement on you, Eleanor Piper."

Extending her hand, the Italian blonde's dress flashed red and faded away, revealing her battle attire, even as a magic circle appeared before her, bright red with a rose at its centre.

"O' lion of steel and your forebear, the lion-hearted king!" she chanted, making a lion's head made of steel, with a red cross on its forehead appear before her. "Accept this Knight, Erica Blandelli's, oath."

With a metallic rumble, the jaws of the steel beast snapped open, into which the Italian Great Knight thrust her right arm. With a cry, she drew her arm back, revealing a silver sword, a sabre, that she held with confidence.

"It's time for a showdown…Cuore di Leone!" the First Knight of the Seventh Campione declared, slashing her weapon with narrowed eyes as Lilliana and Godō filed out behind her, the Fairy Knight holding Il Maestro ready in her own hands.

Shaking herself out of her stupor, Rebecca brought up Hearthkeeper and glared at Eleanor.

"A-A sorceress…?!" the leader of the mercenaries stammered in shock, eyes wide and pallor quickly matching a corpse. "I...we didn't know! I swear to you, we would never have contracted with her had we known!"

"Get your men and yourself out of here." the Hearth Witch growled, not taking her eyes off the real threat. "We will talk about this after my former relative is expunged."

Fortunately for him, most mage mercenaries added a subsection to any contract that allowed them to break contract if their employer turned out to be a user of Sorcery, so they could scurry off back to wherever they came from and hopefully learn not to be mercenary scum for a while.

She had a dislike of mercenaries, so sue her.

"Curse you, I will not be stopped by some impertinent little gigolo and his toy sluts, nor will I be stopped by a foreign strumpet and my imbecile descendent!" Eleanor hissed before throwing a bolt of sickly green energy at Erica. The Great Knight swatted at it contemptuously with her sword and the evil energy was sent haring into the wall, cratering inside it.

"Such foul energy cannot stand against my blade, Sorceress." the Italian informed her.

"Do you think I've not made preparations for being found out, brat?" the newly revealed Sorceress sneered. "I have been alive for over three-hundred years! I have forgotten more about magic than you could ever hope to learn!"

"Impossible." Rebecca scoffed as the mercenaries scurried away. "You are barely over eighty years old, Eleanor! For mortal magic, the absolute limit for extending your life is just under two-hundred years. Only Campione live for longer than that due to their divine power, and Sorcery is a foul art that reduces your life force the more you use it. As a practitioner of such a twisted and evil art, you are incapable of extending your life beyond even the human norm without dark rituals."

"Heh...it's true that this body is only eighty years old, but a vessel is simply a vessel, to be used and discarded like a pair of shoes!" Eleanor smirked darkly. "Grant me a dark steed on which to fly!"

At the end of the chant she spoke at the end, Eleanor said another incomprehensible word that made anyone who heard it flinch in pain. Then a black horse, twice as large as a regular carthorse, emerged from the Sorceress' shadow and made her fly out of the door and into the sky.

"Take flight, Sandals of Hermes!" Rebecca shouted, the hermetic magic circle appearing beneath her feet before she leapt out of the door and then up onto the rooftops of London.

"Rebecca! Damn it, you're just as reckless as Lady Jean!" Yue growled. She ran through a quick kata, the physical motions acting as a focus for her own magic. "Grant me the power to ascend into the Heavens! Leap of Sun Wukong!"

Glowing with power, the Chinese Daoist Mage followed her charge out the door and onto the rooftops.

"We have to pursue! Eleanor Piper...or whoever she is, cannot be allowed to enact whatever scheme she has been cooking up!" Erica said firmly.

"Wait, why is an ordinary magic user earning as much of a reaction as a Heretic God?" Godō shook his head in confusion.

"A Sorcerer or Sorceress can and has laid waste to entire countries in the past, King Kusanagi." Princess Alice explained quietly. "Their magic is such an abomination of nature and the natural order that even Heretic Gods will move to slay any who they cross paths with. Anyone uncovered as a practitioner of sorcery is automatically passed with a death sentence that must be carried out as quickly as possible."

"What worries me is what that sorceress said about being over three-hundred years old and that only her current body was eighty." Lilliana put in with a frown. "Do you suppose she has been stealing the bodies of others to do so?"

"That would take an Authority to accomplish." Princess Alice frowned. "One belonging to a God of the Underworld at that…"

Yuri stiffened up, her eyes turning emerald green and widening as her [Spirit Vision] activated.

"The blood-stained wolf that guards the gate of the underworld's queen…the greatest of hounds…the chained one of Gnipa Cave…bound and fettered until the Twilight of the Gods…" she said distantly.

"I think that makes it clear exactly what Divine Authority that we're dealing with here." Erica said grimly. "One belonging to Garmr, guard dog of the gates to Niflhel."

"That may be problematic...he has likely been associated in the minds of others with Cerberus or his brother Orthrus in recent years." Alice frowned slightly. "Or even simply generic hellhounds."

"Whatever the Authority is, it has been perverted by sorcery." Erica said with a shake of her head. "Princess Alice, what lies in the direction that Eleanor fled in?"

"The River Thames…more specifically…oh dear, she's heading towards the old Millennium Dome." the Ectoplasm Clone grimaced. "Fortunately, The O2, as it is known as these days, is closed today, but really…I wonder why she's heading there…?"

"Could…could she be about to summon Garmr as her last resort?" Yuri asked worriedly.

"If she is, then at least we have an area that deserted of people to fight a Heretic God in." Erica said grimly. "Lily, I'll go ahead, you bring Godō. Yuri, you stay with Princess Alice. This sorceress must be run to ground before she can cause more damage!"

Running out of the building, the Diavolo Rosso used the Sandals of Hermes Spell to set off in pursuit of the sorceress, the Hearth Witch and the Daoist Mage.

'Why is it that a Witch who possesses so little strength outside of her Hearth is so brave?' she wondered absently as she leapt from roof to roof. 'Even with her blade connecting her to her Hearth, she shouldn't have anything close to the combat experience of a Knight…could being around a Campione have robbed her of the ability to fear for her own life?'

The fact that such a weak magic user had survived a battle with a Heretic God had astounded her when she first heard it, and even now Erica had a hard time believing that a Hearth Witch, of all things, had been a participant in the Ritual of Epimetheus. Still, the evidence was there, and she couldn't disbelieve her own eyes.

Jean Campbell…the Eighth person to become a Campione in the last thousand years. The woman was an orphan, a fresh high school graduate who was very literally alone in the world; every single member of her family was dead. It was almost as if someone had cursed the family, although that actually wasn't too far from being a possibility with the revelation of the Campbell family carrying the blood of a Hime-Miko in it.

The effect the Eighth Godslayer had displayed on two fairly weak magic users, a Hearth Witch and a fairly low-tier Daoist Mage, was astonishing. Most examples of either would never even dream to do anything but run from Heretic Gods, Sorceresses, and even regular Knights, but these two were charging headlong into danger without so much as a hint of restraint.

Godō had thrown himself into the fray against both Verethragna and Melqart as a mortal with a recklessness that had astounded her. He'd shown more courage than she, a Great Knight, had possessed, to suicidal levels. As one would expect from someone worthy to become a Campione, and Erica could only assume that the same reckless courage had been shown during Jean Campbell's own battle with Poseidon/Neptune.

'That explains Rebecca, but not Xie Yue. The only battle she was present for before entering Jean Campbell's service was when Lord Alec and Jean Campbell fought one another, then fought Azazel and Sariel.' Erica thought in frustration. 'What part of that battle made her so reckless…oh…could it be...the battle against Athena...I'd forgotten about that…'

Shaking her head, the blond Italian magic user focused on the task at hand. For now, she needed to eliminate the sorceress before she could invoke the power of the grimoire. The mystery of the unusual bravery of the Hearth Witch and Daoist Mage could be set aside for the moment.

Ahead of her, the massive silhouette of the former Millennium Dome loomed.

Inside The 02, Formerly Known as the Millennium Dome

Eleanor Piper huffed as she ran through the empty corridors of the interior of the massive dome, a scowl on her face. The damned building was too large by half, an utter waste of both space and money in her mind. Why it had been built she didn't know, nor did she much care, but when it had been built, a section unknown to even the designers had been added, then erased from the memories of those responsible for its construction. Naturally, both facets were done by her own hand.

For a lone sorcerer or sorceress, for whom every other form of Mage was an enemy by nature, having a stronghold to fall back to was absolutely essential.

And Eleanor had personally ensured that any other practitioner of sorcery was either expelled or removed from England long ago and had ensured that no new ones had a chance to rise up in the decades since. So she was very much on her own.

She preferred it that way anyway, even before becoming a sorceress Eleanor had never been the type to share or trust.

Three-hundred years ago, in 1699, she had been a simple peasant child on London's filthy streets, forced to make her way as a cut-purse after her parents had died from a wasting sickness. Even back then she'd been a hate-filled little thing, despising the world for denying her what she knew she rightfully deserved; wealth, power and influence. A sorcerer had taken notice of her when she'd murdered a smug little rich tart that had dared to look down on her. Her coldness and complete lack of empathy or remorse seemed to have caught his interest and he'd spirited her away to take her as his apprentice. The man had been a cruel and degenerate monster, but he had been a good teacher and she'd been an apt pupil, surpassing him by the time she'd turned seventeen.

Of course, she'd killed him before he could realize just how good a student she was, and taking his store of wealth and magical knowledge for herself had been her first true step on her path to achieving everything she deserved. It had taken her only a scant decade more to achieve what the fool had been attempting for over fifty years, acquiring the Grimoire of Garmr.

Why should she allow herself to be shackled to the limits of a mortal body? Why should she risk her life in battle against Heretic Gods to gain limited immortality when there were safer ways to gain life everlasting?

Pausing just before the so-called 'Entertainment Avenue', Eleanor spat out a word that would have made anyone without magic vomit to hear it. In response, a rectangular section of the floor shimmered and vanished, revealing a set of stairs leading down, which she quickly ran down.

An unfortunate fact was that recent uses of sorcery, as in within half an hour of them being cast, were fairly easy for regular magic users to detect, and that little bitch of a girl was only a handful of minutes behind her, so this place was going to be discovered soon.

'Not that it matters…if my plan works, then a mere sorceress will be the least of their concerns!' the sorceress know as Eleanor sneered.

Her original name hadn't been Eleanor, of course. Once she had mastered the art of drawing upon the blood-soaked underworld energy that the Authority sealed within the Grimoire possessed, she had experimented and experimented until she was able to transfer her mind, soul and magical reserves into a new host. She'd quickly lost any attachment to her old name and had simply taken to using her vessel's for the ease it granted her.

Over the past three centuries, she'd made use of over fifty vessels, not including her original body. Some had been taken due to simple inconveniences, a body proving frail to a particular disease or affliction and needing to be replaced, others had been to take advantage of their positions or heritage. She'd taken the body of the true Eleanor Piper when the brat had been a measly ten years of age (Younger bodies always worked best. More malleable to the sudden change she'd long supposed).

She'd made far better use of it, and the girl's position, than the snivelling little pest ever could have anyway.

As she entered into the modestly large cavern, about the same size as a countryside church, the statuette sitting on the plinth in the centre drew her eyes as always. It was of a massive canine; dog or wolf, it was impossible to know which, chained to a wall, with a door behind it. An aura of blood and savageness emanated off of it, chilling even Eleanor to the bone.

"Heh…you really hate me, don't you, Garmr?" she sneered at the Grimoire. She knew that somehow, the Divine Beast Garmr had been able to sense her misusing his Authority ever since she had first gotten her hands on it, and the beast was furious at it. Fortunately, she'd been cautious enough to lay enough spells and rituals to obfuscate a small nation on the Grimoire before she'd first started using it, so there was no way the beast could sense where, or even when, his Grimoire was.

Approaching the wall, Eleanor withdrew a leather whip that was the only other thing in the cavern. It was long, barbed and enspelled with enchantments of pain, death and weakening for those it struck. She'd become a dab hand with it over the centuries, always preferring it to the simple lumps of sharpened steel that most fools favoured.

Abandoning England would be an inconvenience, not to mention a waste of all the effort she'd put in, but she'd been canny enough to have suitable backup body ready and waiting for her spirit to flee to in another country. All she'd need to do was complete a certain ceremony and the Divine Beast Garmr would be unleashed in the heart of London, which would force the bleeding hearts that were the mages and the battle maniacs that were the Campione to deal with the beast rather than her.

"So, this is where you were." Rebecca stated as she entered into the room, almost gagging at the smell befouling the place. It was rank with the stench of old, dried blood and the nauseating sensation of sorcery enveloped it as well.

"Indeed, welcome to my humble home." Eleanor mockingly bowed to the little bitch. "This is the longest existing Sorcery Sanctum in all of Britain, girl. Feel honoured to have set foot here."

"How many people have you killed here?" the High Priestess of Hestia demanded, brandishing her weapon. "The stench of death infuses the very stone of this horrid place!"

"How many slices of bread have you eaten in your life, girl?" the Sorceress replied with an unconcerned shrug. "That is exactly how little those bratlings mattered to me, they were as meaningless as a bit of toast! I have lived longer than you could ever dream and I intend to keep existing for a long time to come, so do not think your paltry powers as a mere Hearth Witch can save you from me!"

"Before we start…what, exactly, were your plans to do with me?" Rebecca asked coldly. "I cannot for the life of me fathom what, if any, benefit it could have brought you to cling so stubbornly to whatever plan you'd hatched."

"Heh…you were to be my next body once you married into the Maxwell Family." Eleanor informed her absently. "Unfortunately, you and your brat of a mother have been interfering with my plans since the moment you were born. That fool girl refused to bow her damned head and do as she was told, then you have to be chosen as the next High Priestess of Hestia…honestly the two of you have given me more grief in the past twenty years than I've had to deal with in centuries! And I'm going to make you pay for every bit of that right here and now!"

"If you think you can defeat me with Hearthkeeper in my hand, you are solely mistaken!" the Hearth Witch snapped. "I am more powerful now than at any other time in my life previously, and after all the years of misery you've put my mother and I through, you will not overcome me!"

"Brave words, little girl." the sorceress breathed. "Let us see if you can back them up!"

With a quick and practised motion, Eleanor went on the attack, the barbed whip lashing out in an attempt to wrap around Rebecca's leg and pull her off balance, but the brunette danced out of the way and lunged in with an attempted stab that the sorceress dodged in turn.

"Well, well, well, so the little bookworm with two left feet can actually fight." the (much) older woman chuckled darkly as she started to circle around, Rebecca keeping her blade up and circling in the other direction. "Well I'll be. That foreign strumpet has been giving lessons, I see. A touch of some form of Chinese swordsmanship in your stance, I think. I can't quite place the exact style, however."

"Since when do you know Shaolin sword techniques?" Rebecca asked, mildly surprised.

"Silly girl. Three hundred years of existence means I've seen more than my fair share of combat. I've seen quite a bit on how the barbarians outside the gate try to ape fighting." Eleanor said condescendingly. She had lived through the time when the British Empire was at its zenith, and had never quite lost that instinctive view that she was superior simply because she was English. Why English? England controlled Britain, and Britain had controlled a third of the planet. Why not think oneself superior because of that?

"Humph. Not enough to recognise the specific style, though." the Hearth Witch spat before pointing her weapon at her enemy. "Disciples of Artemis, bestow upon me swift seeking arrows that I might hunt my prey!"

Around her, a dozen silver arrows took shape before being launched at high speeds towards Eleanor, who spun her whip rapidly in a spiral in front of her, deflecting all of the arrows.

"You'll have to try a little bit harder than that, niece of mine." she chided Rebecca mockingly.

"How's this, then? Zhuge Liang's Divine Crossbow!" a familiar voice shouted, and Eleanor found herself bombarded by literally dozens of small arrowheads, which peppered her left side up and down.

As the Sorceress screamed and staggered back, Rebecca saw Yue striding out of the tunnel looking furious at her.

"Are you trying to make Lady Jean punish me?" she hissed at the Hearth Witch. "I'd be in the doghouse with her if you got hurt!"

"Sorry, but this is extremely personal for me, Yue." Rebecca said as her great-aunt cursed like a sailor as she pulled bolt after bolt from her side.

"I do beg your pardon, but I am about to flense your flesh from your bones for that, you foreign hussy!" Eleanor screeched, nauseous purple fire running along the length of her whip.

"You really are just a little bigot, aren't you?" the Daoist Mage asked, one elegant eyebrow rising in query. "Where you are from matters not; only what you do with your life does."

"SILENCE!" the sorceress howled in a fury and lashed out with her whip, sending out waves of purple fire with every arc and swing.

As they didn't want to be on purple fire today, thank you very much, the two subordinates of the Eighth Campione started to dodge and deflect the corrupted flames with their weapons.

"Flames of Hestia, fire of sanctity, purge the unclean from my sight!" Rebecca chanted. Fire erupted around Hearthkeeper, blue flames summoned forth from the Witch's own Hearth, which carried the serene feeling of purity and sanctity that was the diametric opposite of the purple flames around Eleanor's weapon. As the sword and the whip clashed, so too did the flames, the purple ones shrinking back from the sacred blue flames.

"Guan Yu's Demon Slaying Moon Blade!" Yue shouted, bringing her sword back and then down, the image of a man wearing old fashioned Chinese armour and wielding a curve-bladed polearm looming behind her as she did so.

While Daoism magic wasn't precisely combat magic, it was in possession of more than a few spells for fighting those who called upon forces that did harm to humanity and were of evil alignment. Guan Yu's Demon Slaying Moon Blade was one of those, a spell that imbued a Daoist's weapon with an aspect of Guan Yu, a Chinese War God and enemy of any force of supernatural evil, including sorcery and those who practised its arts.

As such, Eleanor was forced to fall back rather than face two anti-evil purification techniques at the same time. She lashed out with her whip, striking the ground and covering it with the purple fire.

"Victims of the fire, restless dead burned to ashes!" she chanted. "Rise now, and do my bidding!"

Sorcery had no particular speciality, being an arcane art that was moulded and shaped by the inclinations and desires of its user. Most of the time, it was used in the form of ritual magic, with battle magic being a close second. Eleanor was invoking it this time as a form of necromancy.

Emerging from the purple fire were skeletal forms constructed of ash, with the flames enshrouding them. First there were only a handful, but after a moment, several dozen had appeared.

"Now then, let us see how you both handle the wraiths of those who died in the Great Fire of London." Eleanor smirked. "Although it happened before even I was born, their pain, despair and anger all causes them to linger still."

"You…!" Rebecca hissed in disgust.

"Cuore di Leone!" another voice shouted. All eyes went to the entrance of the tunnel, where Erica Blandelli stood as she threw her blade into the air, where it stopped, spun, and seemed to clone itself several times over before all of the blades shot out, impaling wraith after wraith one after another. With a simultaneous shriek, the small army of wraiths dissolved back into ashes, and dispersed.

A single one of the copies of Cuore di Leone remained, and it flew back into its owner's waiting hand as they watched. Truly, such power was proof that she was a Great Knight, one of humanity's mightiest magic users.

"Tch!" Eleanor clicked her tongue in frustration. "Stupid vapid Italian bimbo. Getting in my way…!"

"Indeed? I'm sorry to say that 'getting in the way' is what I do when it comes to scum such as you." the Diavollo Rosso said icily.

Taking the chance while Eleanor was distracted, honour be damned when dealing with a sorceress, Rebecca silently used Sandals of Hermes to leap forwards, appearing almost instantly in front of her quarry, and plunge her blade hilt-deep into the body of her Great Aunt.

"Gaah…!" the sorceress vomited up some blood before grinning savagely. "Blood of mine spilt by blood from mine, awaken the hound of Hel, and have it feast on her flesh, blood and bones!"

As Eleanor spat out her words, a powerful presence filled the chamber as blood-red runes covered the floor, circling around the grimoire in the centre menacingly.

"She had sacrifices pre-prepared to summon Garmr, and all it required was her own life to be taken in order to summon it!" Rebecca cursed as she wrenched her bloodied blade out of Eleanor's body.

"Hahahahahahaha!" the old sorceress cackled as she dropped her whip from nerveless fingers. "Fall before Garmr, child! I shall see you in time, should you survive!"

Reaching into her bodice, she pulled out a dagger and slammed the blade home into her heart, the dark enchantments fuelling a spell she had prepared a century ago. Fleeing her dying vessel, the spirit formerly known as Eleanor Piper vanished from Britain, a vow of vengeance on her spectral lips.

As the corpse collapsed, Rebecca turned and shouted, "Run! We have to get out of here! If we fight Garmr in a cave, he will have an advantage! His domain is the underworld and caves!"

Not hesitating to heed her warning, both Erica and Yue turned and ran, the Hearth Witch laying a wall of purifying flames to at least delay Garmr momentarily once he appeared before following suit.

"Why would she give up the Grimoire of Garmr so easily?" Yue asked as they ran.

"I don't know! Possibly because she had no choice!" Rebecca replied. "Sorceress or not, there's no way she could handle facing two Great Knights, a pseudo-Great Knight, a Daoist Mage and a Campione all at once. The best thing she could do was set Garmr on us and kill her body, probably so her spirit can shift to one elsewhere that she had prepared for just such an instance."

"That's an all-too likely scenario." Erica scowled. "To think that a sorceress has been lurking in England for all this time…"

"Back before the 20th Century, people died or disappeared all the time in England, in London especially." the Hearth Witch said as they approached the entrance, which had been blasted open, she noted. "And before the founding of the Greenwich Witenagemot 150 years ago, there wasn't really any form of formal or informal cooperative association between the various mage families. Granted, they came together to deal with a common threat like a sorcerer appearing openly, but as long as they were cautious enough, a lone sorceress would have found it relatively easy to blend in and hunt her prey."

The sound of a loud, bloodthirsty howl from behind them spurred them to move faster.

"Will the Dome be sufficiently cave-like to affect Garmr?" Erica asked. She hadn't studied the Norse deities as much as the Grecian, Roman and Asian ones, and Garmr was minor enough that she could only barely remember his titles and vague description.

"Possibly? It isn't rock, but it is an enclosed space with only one large exit." Rebecca said, guessing at this point. "It's possible that he'll head over to the exit to prevent us from leaving."

As she spoke the three young women left Eleanor Piper's underground hidey-hole and almost ran into Lilliana and Godō. Erica quickly gave them a status update as they fell back, which had Godō looking disapprovingly at Rebecca.

"Did you have to try and kill her?" he asked.

"Legally, morally, and personally...yes, yes I did." the Hearth Witch replied instantly. "She made my entire life hell, kicked me out of my family and planned to set a Heretic God on London regardless of whether I struck her down or not. After all of that, I am most definitely warranted in stabbing her. I'm actually shocked that I didn't go for another one. I must have more self-restraint than I thought…"

The seemingly blasé manner in which the Englishwoman treated attempted murder shocked Godō somewhat, but given everything Alice and Lilliana had just told him about the things that sorcerers and sorceresses had gotten up to over the years, he considered that it was perhaps an ingrained part of a magic user's life; see a sorcerer, kill the sorcerer.

"Yue, go outside now and start helping to conceal the fight from the mundane world for the moment." Rebecca ordered as they came to a halt. "This isn't a fight you're equipped to take part in."

As much as Yue loathed to admit it, the Hearth Witch was correct. Without the special bond that Rebecca shared with their liege, she would be a distraction at best…a burden at worst in a battle against a Heretic God.

"Very well." the Chinese girl reluctantly nodded before bowing deeply to Rebecca. "May our Lady King lead you to victory, Mistress Campbell."

"She will." the Englishwoman nodded, ignoring the astonishment on the faces of Erica and the others. "Now go. Liaise with Princess Alice as needed."

Without a further word, the Daoist Mage turned on her heel and started sprinting across the interior of the Dome until she was lost from sight.

"Should you not retreat also?" Lilliana asked Rebecca. "From previous experience, I can tell you that even a Great Knight is a mosquito by comparison to a Heretic God."

"Perseus/Mithras, correct?" Rebecca smirked at the startled look on the Fairy Knight's face. "The Witenagemot received reports of all of King Kusanagi's adventures in Sardinia. Really, I appreciate the concern, but leaving your King aside for a moment, Lord Alec lives in Britain; do you really think that my wife would be willing to leave Yue and I alone here without a possible way for me to fight back against him?"

Swapping her sword to her left hand for a moment, she bit into the glove on her right hand and tugged it off, revealing a shining sword symbol on the back of her hand.

"Is...is that…?!" Erica asked haltingly. Rebecca smiled impishly at her and raised her right hand into the air.

"Oh my King! You to whom I have sworn my life! By my oath to you, I call upon yours to me!" she chanted. "As I swore to serve you to the best of my ability, I now require aid from you towards that end! An enemy approaches who seeks my life! I am hunted and beset by a great foe! Grant me aid, grant me succour, grant me the power of your divine might, that I may live to serve you more!"

In that instant, in a hotel room in the distant city of Ulaanbaatar, Jean Campbell looked up sharply in the middle of a conversation with a local mage and her magic pulsed slightly, an Authority activating.

The two Great Knights and one Campione flinched back as silver fire erupted in front of Rebecca, surrounding her as the bulk of the flames formed into a familiar shape. A fiery, spectral image of Jean Campbell looked down on Rebecca with a smile.

"By my oath to you, I honour your plea for power." the image spoke in a voice thrumming with power. "Let none who would assail my spouse live once they have attacked thee, and let all know the might of the High Priestess of the Hestian Cult! I grant you my power...and with it, I order thee to smite thine foe."

With that, the silver flames rushed inwards and were absorbed into Rebecca's body, which took on a silver glow of its own. While the colour of the magic was different, there was no mistaking what kind of power Rebecca now held.

"Divine magic…!" Erica breathed. "Just like when Godō uses the [Youth] aspect of Verethragna's [Ten Incarnations] on us!"

"Sort of, but not exactly." Rebecca replied. Her voice, while not thrumming with power like a Campione or Heretic God, was still attention-grabbing. "Unlike with the [Youth Incarnation], I can invoke it remotely, even when My Lady is half a world away, but I can only do so if I have sufficient reason and even then, only once per day. Whereas King Kusanagi can bestow the power of the [Youth Incarnation] upon you girls whenever he sees fit."

"So...you really are like us…you swore yourself utterly to your king." Lilliana said, a look of understanding on her face.

"I may not be a Knight or Great Knight, but I am the descendent of an ancient family of mages. We understand oaths and their importance." Rebecca said with a nod before stiffening. "It's coming!"

Erupting from the ground, demolishing buildings and rupturing the concrete, was a mighty four-legged beast. Blood coated its black fur; a long tail shook itself free of the earth and a slavering maw full of teeth emerged from beneath. Bloodshot yellow eyes glared at the small group before locking on to Rebecca in particular.

"Oi, oi, what's with the size of this thing? It's on the same level as the [Boar] at least!" Godō said incredulously.

"So, you're willingly following the orders of that bitch of a sorceress, are you?" the Hearth Witch growled. "Or can you simply sense that the person who manipulated your Authority in the Grimoire shares blood with me?"

"Aaaaaooooooouuuuu!" the Divine Beast Garmr howled.

Raising one hand, Rebecca pointed it at Erica. "By the light of Apollo, let the knowledge be shared!"

A yellow glow appeared around the Italian blonde. "Huh? This is…?"

"I just transferred to you all of my knowledge regarding Garmr using a tutelary spell." the Hearth Witch said absently. "Give the knowledge to King Kusanagi while I hold the beast back. Take flight, Sandals of Hermes!"

With a flash of magic, Rebecca leapt up towards Garmr, much to the shock and disbelief of the other three.

"Is she insane?!" Lilliana gaped before Rebecca Campbell drew her sword back and slammed it up into Garmr's jaw, actually making the giant hound lift slightly off the ground and stagger back under the blow. Then the building sized beast growled and snapped at the irritating mite that had just cold-cocked it on the jaw.

"Haaaaaa!" the Strongest Hearth Witch unleashed a blast of pure blue flames that sent the Guard Dog of Hel stumbling back again, the divine power within the flames actually managing to hurt him.

Not wasting a moment, Erica strode over to her King and pulled him into a deep kiss, utilising her tutelary magic in order to pass the knowledge that Rebecca had given her to Godō.

Grinding her teeth at how, once again, the Red Devil had stolen a match on her with their mutual love, the silver-haired elfin girl turned around, raised her sword, Il Maestro, and started the chant for one of her most powerful spells, the Bow of David.

"Hear the sorrow of David, people! Alas, may the heroes fall! Alas, may the weapons of war be destroyed! O' mountains of Gilboa, I pray that dew and rain will not fall upon your peaks! I pray that your lands grow infertile, unable to flourish! There, the shield of the hero was cast away!" she chanted. "The shield of Saul, unpolished with oil, was cast away over yonder! Undrinking blood of murderers, the unretreating bow of Jonathan! Unconsuming oil of the brave soul, returning the sword of Saul in vain! Alas, the heroes, fallen in the midst of battle! O' bow of Jonathan, with eagle's swiftness and lion's strength, a hero's weapon. Go forth in assault, upon my fleeing enemies!"

She had been forced, while under the influence of the accursed Heretic God Perseus, to use this spell against the one who had stolen her heart and loyalty, Godō Kusanagi. Now she wielded it on his behalf.

In a glow of magic, the sabre Il Maestro transformed in its bow form, an arrow appearing in her free hand. Nocking it, Lilliana aimed right at the massive hellhound and loosed it with the smooth, practised ease of long practice and hard training. The arrows fired by the Bow of David could penetrate any defence, mundane or magical, even the usually nigh-impregnable magic resistance of a Heretic God or Campione's Divinity. Barring supernaturally good luck, it wouldn't kill one by any means, but hurt, impede and distract?

That was another thing altogether.

Surrounded by a corona of blue magical light, the arrow sped forth and slammed right into one of Garmr's eyes, blinding it there, at least temporarily. Lilliana gave herself a small pat on the back for such a well-placed shot.

"Oh, nice shot, Lily." Erica said, stepping up next to her frenemy. "You've been practising, haven't you?"

"I see you're finished." the Fairy Knight said sourly, jealousy tingeing her voice.

"No getting jealous, Lily." the Diavollo Rosso chided her. "Tell you what, next time you can be the one to use tutelary magic on Godō."

Lilliana considered that for a moment. "I'll hold you to that, you vixen." she said sternly.

"She really is quite good." Erica nodded in admiration at Rebecca, who was pelting Garmr with bolt after bolt of fire. "Looking at her, you wouldn't think she was just a Hearth Witch."

"Indeed." Lilliana agreed. She was one of the more powerful Witches in existence currently, having a balance of Heaven and Earth within her that prevented her from being affected by her powers…too much, anyway, but the feats she was seeing here were on the same level as her own. Rebecca was fluttering in the air on golden wings...the fabled Wings of Nike spell, she suspected, and more than holding her own against a powerful Divine Beast that would have had Lilliana herself running in fear before she had met her King.

Speaking of whom…

Turning her head to look over at Godō, she saw that he had one hand out, and a golden magic circle had appeared beneath him, the centre depicting a man in archaic armour and wielding a curved sword. It was the symbol of the Victorious Warlord Verethragna's [Warrior Incarnation], and from it was emerging a sword made of shining gold, Old Persian cuneiform script lining the flat of the blade.

The [Golden Sword], Godō Kusanagi's embodiment of the [Warrior Incarnation], had never failed to sever the divinity of a Heretic God it had been set against; even its original wielder, Verethragna the Victorious Warlord, had been struck down by its might.

"Garmr, the dog of Hel, seemingly shares the origins of its name with another beast guarding a different underworld, Cerberus, or Kerberos, as well as his brother, Orthrus." he declared, the Words of Power, Kotodama, flowing from his mouth as he embraced his Authority fully.

Around them, the battered and torn landscape vanished as they were drawn into a golden desert filled with floating swords that started to fly at Garmr, piercing its flesh countless times over. Some even sliced at its tendons, making the blood-soaked beast collapse onto the ground with a yelp and a small earthquake from the impact.

"But that is not the truth, as Garmr shares its origins along with that of Sköll and Hati Hródvitnisson, who is also known as Mánagarmr, the Moon Hound." Godō chanted. "That origin being one and the same beast; Fenrir, the Vánagandr, the Fenrisúlfr. The son of Loki, the wolf of the apocalypse, the beast with god-killing fangs. Split into four separate wolves by the tales of man: one was the chained and bound original wolf, who bit off the hand of Týr; one who eternally chased the sun; one who eternally chased the moon, and one who was locked deep away underground, relegated to being a lowly guard dog in the world of ice and shadows, chained and fettered like his original form, yet relegated to relative obscurity by the passage of time and failing human memory."

Raising his blade, Godō summoned hundreds of blades to circle around his own, echoing the time he had reforged his [Golden Sword], from one suited to cut down Apollo to one suited to cut down Osiris, against Duke Voban.

"The Beast fated to kill Týr and devour Odin at Ragnarök, the wolf who shall eat the sun, the wolf who seeks to devour the moon, and the fettered guard dog of Hel. Those...are your origins!" he shouted, bringing his sword down with one mighty swing, the blades surrounding it flying at his target at his unspoken command.

The positive tidal wave of blades was halted by a golden shield engraved with Norse runes, but each slowly and surely pressed on, piercing through and then shattering the shield of Garmr's Divinity, rendering the massive beast mortal…and thus vulnerable to the onslaught of blades coming in on the heels of the first wave.

The Guard Hound of Hel let loose one, final howl before being buried under the innumerable swords created by the Authority of Godō Kusanagi. Rebecca, looking on from far above on her wings, shuddered at the overwhelming power that the 7th Campione was extruding at this moment. It was as if a Heretic God was standing there, not a single Campione. Simply by knowing a certain amount of knowledge about a Heretic God, he could use the [Golden Sword] to sever its divinity, rendering it mortal.

'Fortunately, it would seem that it is true that he has been relying on his mistresses to supply him with knowledge regarding his enemies.' Rebecca thought as she glided to the ground. 'My lady will simply have to keep them apart and prevent them from kissing should things truly come to blows between them.'

"That was well done." she said aloud as she landed softly next to them, her golden wings vanishing. Around them, the golden world was fading, returning to the interior of the Millennium Dome.

"Is...that it?" Godō blinked. "Usually they resist for longer…"

"Unlike the majority of Heretic Gods whom you have faced in the past, Garmr was not an amalgam of similar gods; he was himself, nothing more." Rebecca pointed out. "Look."

A golden light shot from the dissolving pile of swords where Garmr had once been and was absorbed by Godō's body. He had, at long last, acquired an actual Authority that wasn't given to him aside from the [Ten Incarnations] and [Kusanagi no Tsurugi].

"Congratulations on your new Authority, King Kusanagi." the Hearth Witch said, the aura of power around her fading. "We should make haste to leave this area, as the police are no doubt on their way as we speak."

"Geh…!" the boy flinched as he caught the sound of multiple sirens in the distance. "I agree, let's get out of here and back to Mariya and Princess Alice."

Getting away was pretty easy; the old Millennium Dome was vast, and there were multiple smaller exits aside from the large main one, so fleeing away from the police was fairly simple. Getting around the police cordon which was being thrown up was another matter entirely, but mages from both the Witenagemot and the Royal Arsenal were on hand to bamboozle them, and they were already laying the groundwork for the cover story.

"A gas explosion? Really?" Rebecca had to be sceptical here as she looked at Princess Alice.

"You would be amazed by how often people buy that clichéd old line." the Speaker of the Witenagemot's Ectoplasmal Clone informed her. "Agents are even now adding the right evidence to the site and to the records, both public and governmental, paper and electronic. Before the day is out, people will be fully on-board with the idea. It certainly wins over the 'terrorist' angle that one idiot suggested."

"There's enough real terrorism nowadays to throw fuel on the fire with fake terrorism." Rebecca said dryly.

"Just so." Princess Alice nodded. "Now then, King Kusanagi and the rest do have other things to be getting on with so we should bid our farewells for the moment. Here's some train tickets."

"Not plane tickets?" Yue asked. She had disengaged from helping the other mages at a word from Rebecca, and had just joined them back at the PAX Building a short while ago.

"It's better if you take a train rather than a plane. Trust me on this." the Strongest Witch of the Heavens shuddered, and the two members of the Eighth Campione's small organisation took her at her word.

"King Kusanagi, before you leave, I must ask...do you see yourself as being better than the rest of your adopted siblings?" Rebecca asked, looking the boy squarely in the eyes.

"Wh-what?" Godō blinked. "I don't see myself as a tyrant, if that's what you mean."

"You do realise that such an assertion flies in the face of over five millennia of both empirical and factual evidence?" the hazel-haired Witch asked with a frown. "To date, every single Campione in recorded and pre-recorded history has been a tyrant to some degree, whether it be outright despotic tyrants like Duke Voban, or benevolent tyrants such as Lord Alec, who also asserts that he is not a tyrant. Attempting to say that you are not a tyrant is arrogance and conceit of the highest degree. I would advise that, if you continue to maintain such a view, that you do not voice it in front of My Lady, lest you remind her of Lord Alec and makes her become wrathful at you."

"I fail to see why stating the truth-!" the Seventh Campione started heatedly.

"Lord Kusanagi." Rebecca's stern voice cut him off at the knees. "You are a Campione, therefore you are a tyrant. Unless you wish to kill yourself without invoking the [Ram Incarnation], that is something you are going to have to learn to live with. Now, I had better leave before I say something that we'll both regret."

Performing an immediate about-face, the Hearth Witch strode away without looking back, Yue bowing politely and then following her charge.

"Well, that turned out better than I expected." Princess Alice said happily. "Come along now, we have to head to Glastonbury…"

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Next Chapter: A Scottish Campione in Mongolia

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