Disclaimer: The works of Type-Moon and Jō Taketsuki are their own despite my most fervent wishes. This is a fan work and if anyone does pay me for it the only thing it will accomplish is to get me into trouble. This is being done purely for fun, constructive criticism is welcome, and flames will be ignored. Please be gentle though, this is the first fanfic I've put on the net.
First off let me say that I'm utterly amazed by just how well my last chapter was received. It's really an amazing experience to have so many people take the time to write that they thought my work was good. I mean honestly, over one hundred reviews in less than a day and practically every single one of them was one of glowing approval, then more than two hundred reviews for a single chapter. Plus I've now got my own TV Tropes page. Granted there are only two tropes there at the moment, but still it's really cool.
Originally I intended to do the lead up to the Feast and the Feast itself all in the same chapter, but as delays piled up I decided to break it in two and get the first chunk out rather than write a chapter at least thirty five thousand words long, maybe even longer if I got really inspired.
This chapter got a bit delayed by me taking some time to play Starcraft 2 Heart of the Swarm. It's a great game but sadly I have to confess I'm not very good at it, I probably spent a bit too much time trying to beat it, but hey, it's my time. I've been contemplating writing a Starcraft crossover using the Zerg, but for the time being I'll stick with this fic.
Later I found myself afflicted with a toothache, and let me tell you there are very few things in the world that can kill ones inspiration faster than a constant dull pain less than five inches from one's brain. That and the blasted sleepless nights.
Also I'd like to thank everyone that took the time to write up some suggestions as to what Shirou's new Authorities could be. All the ideas I received were extremely inspiring and I've borrowed aspects from a number of different sources and combined them with my own ideas. The final results can be seen at the bottom of this chapter.
SPOILERS.
In all truth I'm not quite satisfied with this chapter, however between distractions, toothache and a couple of other concerns I honestly think that it's about as good as I could have managed it. I'm sorry to those who are a bit disappointed that I haven't got to the Feast of Kings yet, but I ask you to bear with me.
As for my nameless mage's monster, don't worry, I don't intend to turn it into some overpowered magic version of the Borg or anything like that, that would be cliché and boring. I have more interesting plans for it, but they are a ways off in the future.
This chapter was also a chance for Shirou to redefine his relationship with Kaida and Manaka. In all truth I've been having a bit of a hard time writing them. As characters they're fun to play with, but neither of them seems to be moving in the directions that I originally planned for them. Still I suppose it could be taken as a hallmark of a good character design that they develop something of a life of their own.
A lot of people have commented on how Shirou seems to have forgotten about Sakura, and in all honesty that was my mistake. I had a prime chance to mention her in the last chapter as the reason Shirou wanted to live and I completely missed it. I considered rewriting the last chapter to include her, but in the end that felt like a bit of a cop out. Instead I've written in a part related to her in this chapter and made a resolve to mention her a bit more.
I apologize if I'm not writing the Bounded Fields correctly, but I know Illya knew a fair bit about them, and since the field around Shirou's house was praised as being efficient I figured that it was a type she could recreate. If I have got it then I ask you to bear with me.
The hardest bit to write was the meeting between Shirou and Guinevere, but in the end I think I got it more or less to my satisfaction. I'd like to make clear that while The Hero's Bride is partly responsible for her behaviour a fair bit of it is of her own making. In the light novels Guinevere struck me as the kind of girl that is attracted to powerful people, after all she ended up being attracted to Godou after he took charge of all her plans due to having lost all his inhibitions due to Lancelot's curse. So I think that a powerful young man wielding the same power as her beloved king and saving her from her hated enemy stands a fair chance of having caught her attention. Add in The Hero's Bride and she doesn't stand a chance. MWA HA HA HA!
Ahem, sorry about that.
And last but not least we see the return of my as yet unnamed god back from chapter four. A number of my reviewers have successfully guessed his identity, but just for that bit of extra drama I'll leave it uncertain for now. I will let you know that he's set to play a big part in my future plans though.
I've also included a short Omake at the bottom, and I'd like to thank the nameless reviewer that gave me the suggestion that inspired it. I hope it rates a laugh or two out of my readers.
Lastly I'd also like to tack on a reply to those who will no doubt say that Titan Knight is an overpowered Authority. Yes it is a powerful one, but I've been careful to give it a bunch of limitation and problems. I know that it's powerful, but the likes of Gilgamesh could bring it down, so could Excalibur and Godou's White Stallion. I will admit I included it mainly due to getting the idea after playing White Knight Chronicle for nearly seven hours straight and really liking the idea.
Hope you all enjoy this chapter.
God Slaying Blade Works: Chapter Thirteen: Road to the Feast
"He did what?"
The question was delivered in an utterly dead tone devoid of all emotion or inflection. Quite simply it was the voice of someone that had just received a shock so profound that their mental and emotional faculties had essentially shut down leaving a body running on automatic.
The poor individual who was currently only a few steps away from a nervous breakdown was the current head of the Seishuuin family. She considered herself a worldly individual having spent years as one of the guiding powers behind the History Compilation Committee. In that time she'd dealt with runaway spirits, unscrupulous magic users and even Heretic Gods. She'd even lived to witness Japan gaining not one Campione but two, two Supreme Kings that miraculously weren't trying to kill each other despite having been in close proximity for weeks.
Quite frankly she hadn't thought there was anything in life that could shock her more than learning that her granddaughter possessed the power to channel the Divine Might of the Old One, Susanoo himself, and that she was calling him Grampsy.
Then she'd received this telephone call.
Naturally she'd been aware of the crisis that had arisen. The arrival of Luo Hao, the release of the Monkey King, the imprisonment of Emiya-sama, all of it. It had been on her instructions that her granddaughter had been dispatched to serve as backup for the only remaining free King.
Events had progressed at an increasingly rapid rate after that, she'd barely been informed that John Pluto Smith had entered the fray before she received a phone call from Sayanomiya Kaoru telling her that not only had the Chinese Campione and Emiya-sama freed themselves, but they had allied with Kusanagi-sama and the King of Los Angeles to face off against an equal number of gods.
She'd spent the next half hour pacing in her room, worrying about the potential catastrophe while glaring at her telephone as though she could get it to ring and signal an update on the situation through sheer willpower. Normally she was more self-possessed, she was the matriarch of a powerful and old clan after all, but given that what was likely the single largest battle between Heretic Gods and their mortal enemies in the last millennia was taking place in her country she felt her behaviour was understandable.
In the end the phone had rung and the current head of the Seishuuin had practically snatched it out of its cradle.
She'd listened intently to the report and heaved a sigh of relief when she heard of how the Great Sage Equal to Heaven and his brothers had been subdued by an alliance between three of the Campione while Emiya-sama had dealt with the fourth that had unexpectedly shown up.
Then she'd heard of what happened afterwards.
The other Campione had been ready to leave, to go back to their home territories, and then the eighth Campione had asked them to stay.
Four of the Devil Kings were scheduled to meet for a 'Contest of Kingship'.
FOUR! Four of the most powerful people in the world and they were planning to have a party together?
Up until this point the elderly matriarch had been privately impressed with how the youngest of the Rakshasa Rajas had handled himself. He'd managed to build up the foundations of a strong personal power base without causing any major disruptions to the land he lived in. What problems he'd had to deal with had been handled with a minimum of fuss or bother. Quite frankly apart from his sister's somewhat messy disposal of the leader of her kidnappers he'd been far easier to accommodate than Kusanagi-sama, who tended to leave wreckage and ruin everywhere he went. Though to be fair most of it normally wasn't his fault.
But now the eighth Campione had gone and done this, THIS!
In some calm corner of her mind she wondered if there was enough time before this party to construct and outfit a nuclear bomb shelter.
With a shake of her head the elderly matriarch dispelled her shock and took a hold of herself.
This banquet was going to take place; there was nothing that could be done about it at this point. So then what did that mean for the rest of Japan?
Worst case scenario was that a four way battle would erupt between the Kings and the entirety of Tokyo would be reduced to desolated ruins. Fortunately that was unlikely to come to pass; Kusanagi-sama was thankfully a young man of considerable personal integrity and followed a strong moral code. Added to that was the fact that Mariya Yuri was someone he would listen to, so the head of the Seishuuin family was sure that the young Hime-Miko would hopefully head off any courses of action that would prove too disastrous.
John Pluto Smith might be regarded as oddly eccentric, even among the normally unusual Campione, but his sense of justice was widely known as was the dedication with which he fought the various evil societies that cropped up in America. He might exact a price for his protection in the forms of various sacrifices, but on the whole he was held to be one of the most benevolent Kings in recent history.
Those two, at least she didn't have to worry about devastating the city. If they were to be drawn into a battle they'd at least make sure that it took place somewhere where no innocents would be caught up. It was the other two that were the problem.
Luo Hao was a less known factor than the American God Slayer, given that she only infrequently left her home on Mount Lu where she lorded over the Holy Cult of the Five Mountains. However the information network of the Committee was quite extensive and was able to gather numerous nuggets of information.
Among those was a description of the normal attitudes and behaviours displayed by the female Campione.
Monumental pride for example, also a huge sense of entitlement and a total lack of any sort of concern for modern codes of conduct. All in all a troublesome individual, just the sort that would pick a fight with another Campione in the middle of the city without any sort of concern for any of the consequences.
And last, but by no means least, was Emiya Shirou, the eighth and youngest Campione. The proverbial wild card that nobody could predict. Renjou Kaida had been diligent in sending her reports back to the Committee, but so far she hadn't developed the same level of closeness to her new lord that Yuri had for her own. Consequently a great deal about Emiya-sama was still unknown.
With a sigh the matriarch sat down seiza style before her table and reached out to pick up her mug of tea. Despite having sat there for so long it was still somewhat warm, and the familiar flavour soothed her edgy nerves.
The simple fact of the matter was that there wasn't anything she could do about it; this was the business of Campione. All she could do was hope for the best and prepare as well as she could for the worst. She'd give it a few more minutes then get in touch with her granddaughter to see if she could add any more details to the rather grim picture that was forming.
-()-
Yamada Yusuke was having somewhat mixed feelings at the moment.
His King had contacted him earlier this morning and informed him as to his plans for a Feast for all four of the Kings that were currently in Japan. He'd asked the resurrected soul to inform Suzuki Asuka of the proposed plan and to be in charge of procuring drink for the party.
That was the cause of his conflicted sentiments. On the one hand he'd been given a more or less limitless budget and told to get hold of all the wines that were quite literally fit for a king. To him this was akin to letting a child loose in the worlds biggest toy shop and telling them to grab what they wanted. As an avid wine collector Yusuke was well aware of how to acquire some of the rarer vintages, but had lacked the funds with which to do it before. Now that was no longer an obstacle.
However it also led to his mixed feelings, because on the other hand even though he was finally able to purchase the exclusive wines that he'd always wanted it wasn't so that they could go into his collection; it was so that someone else could drink them.
Well . . . maybe there'd still be some left over after the feast was through? Yes, that was a thought to sooth his disappointment. Surely if there were a few bottles left over then Emiya-sama wouldn't object to him adding them to his collection, would he?
With a final nod to himself the undead accountant clicked the mouse on his computer one more time and confirmed his last purchase. Red wine, white wine, spirits from various parts of the world and a number of ingredients for some of the more exotic fruit juices that could be mixed up. Yusuke had even made sure to acquire several high class non-alcoholic drinks for those who wanted them. He'd been careful and made preparations to allow for virtually every taste and preference. As far as the drinks went at least he was sure that there would be something to satisfy everyone there.
That was of course assuming that they all arrived on time. Almost as expensive as some of his purchases had been the cost of having them transported to Japan at top speed and priority. In a couple of cases he'd even paid for the hiring of a private plane simply to ensure that the wine would be delivered in time for the Feast tomorrow evening.
"Ah, there you are Yusuke-san." the voice brought him out of his thoughts and he turned in his swivel chair to face the one addressing him.
The young lady in question was a former member of the Circle that had kidnapped Illya-chan. After being sworn into her service this one had ended up acting as an assistant to Suzuki-san, and had proven to be surprisingly adept in her new role.
"Yes? How can I help you Hamasaki-san?"
"Suzuki-san says that we're going to need more outdoor furniture for the set up to be complete. She told me to ask you to acquire at least two more sets identical to the ones we already have."
Yusuke sighed and nodded without saying anything. Sometimes being the guy that held the purse strings was more trouble than it was worth. Still, it was the job that he'd volunteered for
-()-
Shirou was overlooking the garden where the Feast was to be held.
It had only been eight hours since he'd made his offer to his fellow Kings, but he already felt as though it had been days ago. Bereft of his flying mount he'd been forced to ride back in a minibus provided by the Committee. He'd spent the two and a half hours that it had taken him to get back home using his cell phone to get in touch with the staff back at his mansion and letting them know what he'd set up. He'd also been in touch with a number of contacts that Yusuke had passed on to him making sure that they knew that the orders they'd soon be receiving were legitimate.
Since getting back to his manor things had grown even more frantic. Instructions had to be given on how guests would be treated and how they should be announced. This hadn't been helped by the fact that a number of Illya's minions had actually fainted on the spot when they'd heard that they'd be working as the staff to a meeting of half the Campione in the world. And on top of all that had been the simple task of determining just what kind of affair this feast would be.
After some consideration he'd decided that since the weather for the night was good then an outside banquet would have a better 'feel' than one inside. To that end he'd set up an improvised patio in the middle of his lawn. The food would be served buffet style with many table arranged for multiple people to sit at.
However the main focus of the arrangement would be the four person ring table in the middle of the veranda. That was where the eighth Campione envisioned holding the 'contest of Kingship'; the only problem was that he had no idea of how it would be held.
In the Fourth Holy Grail War Iskander, the Rider of that war, had gathered together all the Kings that had been summoned for that war and asked each of them to state their reasons for seeking the Grail. The answers each had given had been revealing of the kind of Kings they had been and the kind of Heroes that they were. Each of the Kings had explained their path of rulership and measured it against one another.
In a way it was a hard memory for Shirou as within it he had seen Saber more uncertain and shaken than he had in any of his other lives. He could understand it to a degree, after all back then she'd been holding on to her wish to save her country rather than having accepted her life as she had in his other lives. To her Rider and his Noble Phantasm Ionian Hetairoi had been a direct blow to everything that she'd always been certain of.
Well, regardless of that the problem here was that he didn't have a near omnipotent wish granting artefact to use as a conversation piece. Simply put at the moment he didn't have a 'goal' for the contest of Kingship that he'd proposed.
Okay, he had to approach this calmly; there wasn't any need to panic just yet. He had to think about this calmly and rationally.
During the Holy Grail War the point to the contest had been to determine who had the greatest claim on the Grail. But there had not been a victor to the contest, nor had anyone expected there to be. Given the guests it was unthinkable that any of them would be dissuaded by mere verbal sparing, therefore . . .
Therefore the point hadn't been to try to convince the others, but rather it had been about . . . a clash of desires perhaps? Iskander simply wanting to see how the wishes of the other Kings had matched up against his own? There was no real way to tell, but that seemed like a reasonable possibility to the young Campione.
If that was the case then the answer to his problem was simple, as simple as one of the oldest questions in the world.
'What do you want?'
No, in this case the question should be: 'What do you want to do with your power as a Campione?'
Yes, a simple enough question, and one that might be able to spark the sort of . . . debate or discussion that he was hoping to achieve between the Devil Kings he was inviting. The answering of that question would be enough to let each of them bring up their various 'Kingships' and compare them against each others paths of Rule.
-()-
Kenji ran down the alley and didn't look back. If he did then he might see the rest of his gang.
Or at least what was left of them anyway.
It had been just the same old thing, wait in the side streets until some know nothing tourist wandered off the main track, then they'd simply herd them into a nice quiet spot, relieve them of anything of value they might have. It wasn't anything special, him and his friends had been doing it for more than a year now, today should have been just another run for them.
He should have noticed something was off when the skinny guy that they'd been following started to talk to himself. Kenji hadn't been able to make out what he was saying, but the way that he'd kept up a constant running dialogue with himself had been pretty unnerving. Still even though the guy looked like he hadn't washed in over a week his clothes had been of good make and the watch he'd been wearing was clearly of silver, and that had been enough of a lure for the young mugger and his friends.
Things hadn't gone anywhere near the usual way though. For one thing rather than being needed to be herded the weird foreigner had actively sought out the side alleys without any prompting. Then when they'd moved in to surround him he'd not even paid them any attention. That had been a new experience; normally people in his situation would have been looking for a way out if not outright pleading. All this guy had done was stare down at the ground and mutter to himself.
Touji had been the first to move, reaching for the guy's shoulder in order to push him up against the wall. That was always the first step, cut off any chance of escape and there were normally only two reactions violence or surrender. In the latter case it simply meant that things went down smoother. They'd normally leave the victim with most of his clothes and maybe his shoes and then take everything else. If they resisted, like lashing out or pulling a stun gun, well there were five of them and they normally only went after those alone or couples. Kenji had gotten tazered once but that was it, with the strength of numbers resistance was normally easily crushed.
That hadn't happened this time though. The weird guy had suddenly looked up and then . . . well he must have thrown that black goop at Touji, he must have. Liquids don't just jump on their own after all.
His pal had gone down screaming smoke rising from his face where the black stuff was clinging to him like tar. Eita and Hiroshi had made a move on the foreigner, murder in their eyes, but they'd gone down screaming as well when more of the black stuff was splashed on them. Kenji had torn his eyes away from them to look at Touji, and what he'd seen had almost made him throw up.
It was like the whole left side of his friend's head and face had been melted off. He could actually see the skin and muscle sliding off the bone as though they were the meat on a perfectly cooked chicken. And what's more he swore that he could see the black liquid moving, not just simply running off him or flowing along the path of least resistance, that coal coloured sludge was moving against gravity.
By this time the other two had stopped screaming and a single glance had confirmed that whatever acid this guy had used had killed them. Eita was sporting a hole most of the way through his chest and Hiroshi was lying still while clutching at the ruin that had once been his throat.
The young mugger couldn't understand it; just a minute ago it had been the five of them, now it was just him and Shinichi. It was unreal, like something that you saw in a movie. This kind of thing didn't happen in real life, it just didn't-
His thoughts were cut off as Shinichi suddenly let out a shriek of pure terror. Under any other circumstances Kenji would probably have ribbed him about 'screaming like a girl' for weeks, but when he saw the cause of the cry his own voice had sounded out.
Shinichi had screamed because Touji had grabbed his ankle.
Touji who was unquestionably dead.
The corpse of his friend was definitely moving though. Before the criminal's horrified eyes the animated corpse had reached up hand over hand to drag himself up Shinichi's body. The young mugger had been unable to move, rooted to the spot with terror as the seeming zombie used him as a crutch to climb to its feet. At first its movements had been slow and jerky, just like the undead in a film, but by the time it was back on its feet it was moving smoother, less stiffly and more like a normal person.
"T-Touji?"
Shinichi had just enough time to ask the tremulous question, then he was screaming, or at least trying to. Touji must have spat the corrosive tar onto him, or some how splashed it. It can't have just moved on its own, that was impossible, liquids didn't move on their own after all. Whatever the case, a glob of the stuff had splashed over his friend's mouth and throat. Shinichi had tried to scream as his skin began to smoke and dissolve, but all that had come out was a sort of gurgling croak.
That had been when the guy they had been planning to rob turned round for the first time. He'd stopped talking to himself and just calmly watched as the corpses of Eita and Hiroshi pulled themselves jerkily to their feet even as Shinichi fell to the ground as his thrashings grew weaker and then stopped all together. The foreigner had looked at the standing bodies of his friends and then glanced at Touji and then down at Shinichi. He'd simply nodded to himself and muttered something that the sole remaining thief hadn't been able to hear.
Then he'd looked up at Kenji.
In the past the mugger had thought that he'd met with dangerous people while dealing in the criminal underworld. Dealers in stolen goods that might end up killing you rather than paying you for your loot. Druggies on withdrawal that were desperate for the money to buy another hit of their poison, and were more than willing to do whatever they needed to get it. Even the psychos that would kill for the sheer rush it gave them rather than for any sort of tangible gain. There wasn't any shortage of dangerous types among the crowd he normally hung out with, but he thought that he had at least seen the worst that was out there.
Now though, now he knew differently.
When that skinny, dirty and unwashed foreigner had looked at him it had been the most terrifying thing he'd ever experienced. It was the way that he'd looked at him. Not as a person looking at another person, but more like a carpenter evaluating a piece of wood to see if would be good enough to work with. That gaze absolutely denied the humanity of all that it was turned upon. To the owner of those eyes he wasn't looking upon living beings, he was observing available resources.
That was when Kenji had turn and run. That cool blank stare had been more terrifying than even the sight of watching his friends being killed.
But even as he took his first stumbling steps away he heard the horrifying foreigner speak.
"Take him as well. Take take take, take him all, all of him, don't leave any left."
And he'd heard the steps, the steps that could only be coming from those things that had once been his friends.
So he ran. He could get away, he was sure of it. Nobody knew these back streets like him and his group; nobody knew the little tricks they did. Like here, this alley looked like a dead end with a wire fence, but that bottom corner wasn't attached right so if you ducked down then it could be pushed open enough to get through. Or here, where the passage between two buildings had been boarded shut, the second plank from the left was only nailed in at the top, so you could swing it to leave a hole big enough to get through sideways.
Here, here he should be safe. Kenji leaned against a wall and gasped as he tried to catch is breath. He'd left the sounds of his former friends behind some time ago, but he hadn't slowed down for even an instant. Instead he'd poured on all the speed and run to his private hideout as fast as he could manage.
No-one knew of this place, not even the rest of his gang. He'd set it up in case he ever needed a safe place where nobody could find him, kind of like now. He had some money stashed here, food and drink as well in case he had to wait out a search. That's what he'd do, he'd wait here for a day or two, long enough for that foreigner to move on, then he'd get his stash and get the hell out of the city.
Maybe he'd head up to one of the more rural towns; Hiroshi had mentioned that in some of those places a guy with some ambition and smarts could set himself up quite nicely. That bore thinking about, maybe-
Above a shadow moved.
Then it began to drip.
Kenji had chosen the site of his hiding place well. It was an out of the way spot that few people ever came near. As a result there was no-one nearby to hear his final screams.
-()-
The magus stood outside in the alleyway as he waited for his creations to return. It seemed like his lovely creation had worked well. It had consumed them, taken everything about them that was of any use and incorporated it into itself.
Not that there was too much to be gained by consuming these alley rats. Inwardly he shuddered at the thought of them being used as the fodder for his beautiful creation's growth, still doing so cleaned up the streets a bit and that was something the she would have approved of. She'd always said that it was a shame that so many promising young men ended up turning to crime, that it was a waste of their potential. Well his creation would put them to use, they'd be of great service to the world even if it did mean their deaths.
He was brought out of his thoughts as five figures seemed to melt out of the shadows and appear kneeling before him.
Good good, it seemed that the obedience patterning that he'd burned into his lovely creation was functioning perfectly. That had been his chief worry, that as his beauty grew and spread it would go out of his control. That was why he'd hammered the need to obey him into its every thought and action. In all truth he wasn't planning to live much longer and if he had been consumed by his creation he wouldn't have minded too much. But the thought of dying before he took revenge upon the Kings that had taken her, that hadn't been something he was willing to allow.
Approaching the kneeling figures he leaned down to examine them. Yes, all seemed to be as he had intended. The proto-flesh that he'd created had consumed all the soft muscles and tissues of the ones it had come into contact with and replaced it with its own homonculid flesh. The skeleton had been left alone, but had been reinforced in order to handle the increased stress that the meat would place on the bones.
All of them now looked the same except for the tattered clothes hanging from their bodies. Their faces were gone leaving only exposed skull beneath. The white bone face was as clean as though it had been polished in a forensics lab. The mouth and nose were empty at first glance, but within them were tiny black tendrils that now served as the new sensory nodes housed there.
The eye sockets on the other hand were quite visibly inhabited by something that wasn't human. A veritable nest of tendrils writhed around a single orb of glowing yellow in each socket. That glowing orb had no visible pupil or iris, but it somehow radiated the impression that it was watching all.
Save for the skull face the rest of the formed muggers bodies were pure black, not the kind of black that could be achieved by normal flesh, this was a black that drank in the light and let none escape. Beneath that new skin they were pure lean muscle, not an ounce of unnecessary fat, no sensitive spots to strike at. These weren't beings meant to live and reproduce, they were entities that existed simply to carry out the orders given to them to the best of their capacities, capacities that had been altered to be maximized to the highest extent possible.
"Yes, yes yes yes. This is just right for what I need, but we'll need more, more more more if I want to send you against the Kings my lovely little thief. We'll need more thieves, many many many more. Go hunting. No, wait, it's not hunting, it's pest control. Kill all the pests and use them for something worthwhile. Oh, oh oh oh, that's not pest control, it's recycling.
"Yes that's it. We're taking trash and turning it into something useful. She'd approve of that, yes, yes she would. All of you go; use the memories of the trash to find other trash. Keep it hidden, don't let anyone notice. We can't have the surprise spoilt now can we? We have to surprise the party, be the surprise, surprise surprise surprise. A surprise attack, a surprise theft.
"They'll never see it coming."
-()-
Alexander Gascoigne, otherwise known as the Black Prince Alec, was beginning to think he might have made a slight mistake.
He'd originally come to this country because his sources had indicated that Guinevere had shown an interest in it, and anything that was of interest to the Black Prince's nemesis was worth investigating. And what a show his investigation had yielded, four gods, the traitor knight that was the Witch Queen's enemy, an alliance of Kings unheard of in recorded history.
The British Campione had deemed it unnecessary for him to interfere in the battle, with half the world's God Slayers already enmeshed he'd felt his own presence was unneeded and had instead set about tracking the Divine Ancestor he hunted.
He'd found her in time to see the newest of the Campione, the one called Emila Shino or something like that, apparently pass out after slaying a god in order to defend Guinevere. That had been a surprise to say the least, but not as much of surprise as seeing her heal the wounded Campione up.
Actually now that he thought about it perhaps it wasn't such a surprise. In the past the queen of the Divine Ancestors had tried to bribe him into acting as her underling by offering him the Holy Grail. He'd turned her down of course, what reason had he to serve in order to get it after he'd learnt who had it? All that was needed was for him to take it from its current owner in order to make it his own. That had been the root of the enmity between them for the last eight years.
It could be that this was her attempt to somehow ensnare the newest Devil King into her service. That had made sense, certainly more so than any other explanation that came to mind. If she could gain the service of a Campione then she'd be able to move far more boldly than she had in the past. If that was the case then it'd be best for him to begin to make preparations in case he had to face the new Japanese King at a later point. So, once Guinevere had left, he departed the scene and headed back to his base of operations in Japan to do a little research on the latest object of his enemy's interest.
As it turned out doing so had caused him to miss the calling of what was quickly coming to be called the Feast of Kings.
Four of the Devil Kings of the world were going to meet under oaths of non-violence to discuss and contest their paths of rule. In all honest Alexander was irritated that he wouldn't be able to attend, it would have been interesting to talk with some of his fellow Supreme Rulers without having to worry about a fight breaking out. As a stubborn and opinionated person there'd have been a certain appeal to defending his Kingship to the others. It would also have been interesting to talk with that freakishly strong girl without having to worry about her attacking him.
But the fact was that his decision to keep to the shadows on this occasion had resulted in him not being invited to the apparent event of the century. For a moment he'd considered turning up uninvited, after all he was a Campione and this was a banquet for Kings, but in the end he decided against it. The move struck him as being . . . needy, unworthy, the act of one who'd found out about something cool going on and desperately wanted to be part of it. He might not be as obsessed with his role as a King as were Luo Hao or Sasha Dejanstahl Voban, but he did have an image that was useful and that he didn't wish to tarnish.
With a sigh he acknowledged to himself that this was one event that probably would be passing him by. Still, now that he thought about it, four Campione in one spot, that was just asking for trouble. Almost certainly they'd be able to deal with whatever turned up, but it would still be an irritation that he'd avoid.
He admitted that it was a slightly petty thought, but he could live with that.
-()-
Manaka sat on her bed in the room that she shared with Kaida-sama and tried to get her thoughts into some semblance of order
So much had happened so fast that she felt as though she'd been caught in the flow of a flash flood and been dragged along while only barely managing to keep her head above water. In the wake of the huge battle that had taken place Emiya-sama had proposed his mad idea to the other Campione and, to her horror, they had all agreed to it.
Well perhaps she was being a bit uncharitable to her sworn lord in calling his idea mad, but given that she had a rather unique perspective upon the four individuals that were the focus of this feast. She'd seen the aura signs that had hung above the Devil Kings; she'd felt the power and majesty that they radiated and she had felt terrified.
Being around Emiya Shirou wasn't all that difficult; his aura sign's strangely inscrutable nature was more irritating than intimidating. Certainly she remembered those seemingly endless swords that had filled her vision the first time that they'd met, but aside from that slightly disquieting memory being around him wasn't all that difficult. Half the time it was easy to forget what he was and just think of him as the lord into whose service she and her friend were sworn.
Kusanagi Godou was a different kettle of fish all together. His aura sign what she assumed to be the symbol of the Authorities that he'd gained from the Heretic God Verethragna, a circular crest with ten smaller crests arranged around it. It was wrought of burnished steel and seemed to radiate a quiet but inexorable strength. Beyond that it hinted to her of stubbornness, of resolve and, oddly enough, of a certain humbleness that the warrior witch wouldn't have thought of being associated with a Campione.
Being around him was surprisingly easy due to the passive nature of his overwhelming presence. In a way it was like relaxing underneath an overhanging cliff. Even though one knew that there was a mass there that could come crashing down and crush you like a bug as long as you could trust it not to then it became a sheltering shade, a protection from rain, a refuge from the driving wind.
The other two Kings were different though, both their aura signs thundered their power and dominance so loudly that it was truly a wonder to her that others couldn't see them.
The sign belonging to the Chinese Campione was . . . unique to say the least. Rather than being some abstract symbol or sign it was a statue of herself cast in a shining golden metal that for some reason conveyed the impression that it was stronger than any mortal metal could ever be. The statue depicted her poised in a ready martial stance while clad in splendid robes that highlighted her beauty. The sign veritably shone with her confidence, pride and discipline. It also gave off a confusing mix of strong moral compunctions, callous disregard and neutral indifference.
However over all that the sign shouted at her of pure unadulterated power. Unlike the two Kings of Japan Luo Hao exerted no effort in hiding her majesty, indeed she radiated it for all in her presence to feel. To one like Manaka the sensation of that aura of power pressing on her was just a step or two short of being crushing.
John Pluto Smith on the other hand was altogether different. His aura sign was a throne, one worked with skeletons upon it. However despite the somewhat gruesome appearance of the seat of majesty it somehow wasn't repellent. The grinning skulls that adorned the throne seemed not to be leering or grimacing, rather there was something about them that seemed . . . mischievous, good natured, as though they knew a joke that nobody else did and were having a good time laughing about it in their own minds. As with the Ruler of the Martial Realm the Masked King's sign thundered to her extra senses. It roared of challenge, of theatricality, of heroism.
It also possessed an almost suffocating aura of power, but one that was different to that held by Luo Hao. Where hers was like a weight, a pressure, bearing down upon Manaka John Smith's was like an atmosphere that closed in around her. It could still be breathed in, but there was the uneasy sensation that at any point that airy power could close in on her and choke her alive.
The thought of all those auras being together in a single spot was . . . intimidating, that was the closest word she could think of. It was like being a child in the presence of giants, that feeling of being so vastly outmatched.
And she admitted to herself, if no-one else, that she hated that feeling. She was someone that took great pride in her skills, due to the isolation that her powers had brought upon her she had spent almost all her free time training in combat and magic. The results had made her one of the best agents that the Committee had available, and that had always helped her to ignore any pangs of loneliness she might suffer.
And to see all that she'd achieved through hours of dedicated work so massively surpassed . . . well, it left her with a slightly bitter taste in her mouth as well as slightly unsteady knees.
With a sigh the warrior witch let herself fall back onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling.
She really shouldn't be thinking like this. Comparing the powers of a Campione to those of a normal human was like a pebble trying to compare itself to the sky. She might as well be yelling at the sun not to rise in the east.
It was just . . . she was frustrated. It seemed as though lately she hadn't really had any sort of control over her life, like she was just being swept along like a leaf in a gust of wind. More than that it didn't feel as though she was really being able to accomplish anything since all this had begun. She'd abandoned her pride to follow Kaida-sama and work as a mere maid, she'd followed Shirou-sama and found herself in the centre of a whirlwind of chaos beyond anything she'd ever imagined. She'd battled Divine Beasts and been privileged enough to witness the defeat of a god.
And yet for all that she didn't feel . . . satisfied.
Looking to the bed that took up the other side of the room she took in Kaida-sama's sleeping form. Since returning to the mansion the Hime-Miko had spent almost all of her time asleep. It wasn't really too much of a surprise, despite her gift and her talent the fact was that Kaida-sama's reserves of strength were only slightly above average. Though she'd been able to join in the final events after a bit of rest, as soon as the pressure had been removed the black haired shrine maiden had spent the entire trip back and most of the time since asleep.
A knock on the door to their room brought Manaka out of her thoughts.
"Oooh? Could you see who that is Mana-chan?"
Her friend's sleepy request brought a small smile to the brown haired witch's lips. Most of the time Kaida-sama could be so painfully formal, it was only at times like this, when she was more asleep than awake, that she used the nickname that she'd apparently assigned Manaka in her head.
Getting up she walked over to the door, idly wondering who it might be as she did so.
"Yes? Who is- Emiya-sama!"
Behind her there was a noise rather like 'grlak' as Kaida-sama suddenly jerked herself to full wakefulness and tried to straighten her clothes, sit up and get off her bed, all at the same time.
"Would it be okay to speak to you and Kaida-san for a moment Manaka-san?"
"Of – Of course Emiya-sama, you know we're ready to serve any time you choose." Even as she said the words the warrior witch flinched inside at the large number of ways her wording could be interpreted.
"Ah, Emiya-sama, what was it you wished to speak of?" Kaida-sama had apparently managed to sort herself out and was now standing behind her and was doing her best to smooth down her sleep rumpled clothes.
"May I come in?"
Manaka knew it was just a formality, a nod to good manners, but she still found it somewhat admirable. This was his home and they were his servants. In addition he was a Campione, if he wanted to walk into the prime minister's office and paint it pink there wasn't any who could stop him save for another King or a god. And yet despite that he still asked for permission before entering.
Wordlessly she stepped aside and granted him a clear path. With a nod of acknowledgement he stepped past her and entered the room. As the former bodyguard closed the door the eighth Campione walked over to the rooms window then turned his back to it as he leaned against the window sill and faced them. Behind him the long shadows of early evening stretched across the part of the garden that their room overlooked.
"I came here to do two things," Emiya-sama announced, "The first was to thank you and the second was to apologize."
That caused Manaka to blink in surprise, that she hadn't been expecting. A dozen different thoughts ran through her mind as she tried to think of what might have prompted the King to feel he had to act in this way.
"Firstly please accept my thanks for how you aided and supported my sister while I was trapped. I asked her how things went and she had nothing but good things to say about you both. She told me of how you, Manaka-san, helped defend against Divine Beasts and of how you, Kaida-san, placed yourself at great risk in order to delay Sun Wukong while they escaped. Both of you went above and beyond what was expected of you and I am truly grateful for it."
Manaka felt a slight frown trying to form but kept her features as they were. Did he really expect them to abandon their oaths as soon as things got tough? In all truth the insinuation was somewhat insulting.
"I'll be quite honest; when you first volunteered to take the position of maids here I thought that it was just so that you could be in a better position to report back to the Committee."
"You . . . thought we were spies?" Kaida-sama's voice wasn't so much insulted as she was perplexed.
"I couldn't think of any other reason for you to be so determined to enter my service. I thought that you might be meant to somehow influence me, try to get me to act in a way that would benefit your organization. Then as you spent more time here you didn't do . . . well, anything that I had expected. You didn't try to ingratiate yourselves to my sister, you didn't try to become part of the organization Yusuke was setting up for me and you didn't make any . . . offers to me."
Manaka felt her face flush with both anger and embarrassment. Intellectually she knew that to someone expecting attempts at manipulation from two attractive young women a sexual proposition was an expected tactic, but still . . . Neither her or Kaida-sama would ever have even considered doing such a thing, and if anyone had ordered them to do so . . . well, it was a toss up between what would hit them first, a Dragon's Roar or some of the warrior witch's nastier and more painful spells.
"But neither of you have done anything of the sort, so that leads to the apology that I owe you."
Both the maids openly gaped in surprise as the eighth Campione, one of the most powerful people on the planet, bowed deeply to them.
"E-Emiya-sama?"
Kaida-sama was the one to speak the halting but questioning word, Manaka's mouth was suddenly too dry to form words.
"I . . . owe you. Both of you stuck with Illya when it looked like you were on the losing side, when Godou-san was injured and Luo Hao and I were trapped. You could have taken the safe route, but you chose to stick with her instead, to stick with the promises you made to me."
Emiya-sama straightened up and looked both of them in the eyes. His face was a picture of sincerity, honest sincerity, not the fake look she was accustomed to seeing on the faces of those that had tried to flatter and manipulate her.
"For the past few weeks I've kept you at arms length due to my concerns, now that you've allayed them I think we can say that'll be over with. Both my sister and I have finished setting up our workshops and have more or less completed that projects we were working on.
"Both of us are interested in learning more about the magic that is commonly used rather than the 'pure' type that the Einzbern taught us, it was my hope that you'd both consent to be our tutors."
There was a moment of silence as the two young women processed what had been asked of them.
"I . . . You honour us with your request Emiya-sama," began the black haired Hime-Miko, "But please understand that neither of us are Masters of our styles. With your influence it would be easy for you to acquire more experienced mages who'd be much better than us at being teachers."
"True, but I doubt that I or Illya could grow comfortable with them any time soon. I don't know about your style of magic, but the thaumaturgy that the Einzbern taught us was . . . dangerous. One had to trust one's instructor or the results could be lethal. Illya will be the one to do most of the learning since I freely admit that she's much more talented than me, and she's already told me that she'd be happier learning from someone that she can put some trust in rather than a stranger.
"I don't think you'll find teaching us to be all that difficult. All we need is a good grounding in the basics and some directions in which way to go next. Once we've got to that point then we'll see what we can do next."
Manaka nodded slowly as she absorbed what she'd heard. If it was just a basic introduction to the arts of witchcraft then she wouldn't have too much trouble. She might not have that much experience teaching, but she'd been the student plenty of times and if she had to show someone else how to do the basics then she had a good idea of how to go about it.
"I . . . I think I could manage that Emiya-sama." Kaida-sama said as she glanced over to her bodyguard and saw her nod in agreement.
"Excellent," the eighth Campione grinned, "I guess that means you won't be maids any longer. Guess I'll have to find someone else to take up that role."
YES, the thought ran through the warrior witch's mind in a jubilant cheer even as she struggled to keep he face calm. No more sweeping, no more dusting, no more polishing, no more-
"Actually Emiya-sama, I'd like to keep my role as a maid," Kaida-sama's happy tone broke into her thoughts and brought them to a screeching halt. "I find doing the housework to be surprisingly relaxing, although a reduction in the schedule so that I'd have some more spare time for teaching and research would be appreciated."
No, no no no. Manaka couldn't believe this. Finally a chance to get out from under the tyrannical thumb of Suzuki-san and it was being lost. Alright, she could understand why the former shrine maiden would like to keep her position; she was damned good at being a maid. Hell, she took it almost to the point where it was a sort of Zen state. But as for the former Committee agent, well she'd be happy if she never had to pick up another dusting cloth as long as she lived.
But . . . oh, blast her conscience; she couldn't leave her friend alone even if she was perfectly happy where she was.
"Well, I'm sure we can get things arranged so . . ." she stopped paying too much attention as the God Slayer began to hash out the details with Kaida-sama. Maybe later she could have a word with Emiya-sama in private. For now she'd just let things get sorted out on their own.
-()-
Shirou lay in his pyjamas under his bed sheets and contemplated the darkness behind his closed eyelids.
Today had been quite busy. Just this morning he'd slain a god, then he'd arranged for what could be the most catastrophic event in recent recorded history, then he'd spent most of the day getting it organized.
Yes, a very busy day.
His body ached from the stresses he'd placed on it, battle, Tracing, paying the price for his Authorities and then not stopping to rest. Save for a few brief stops this was the first time that he'd really let himself unwind since this morning. Quite frankly he was amazed that even with his enhanced endurance he'd been able to last this long.
He felt the first hints of sleep as his mind began to wander.
He missed Sakura. He missed her in his bed.
That thought was enough to bring him back to full wakefulness.
He felt . . . a bit guilty at that thought. It hadn't been a thought of how he missed her smile or how he missed her company. It had been the simple primitive thought of a man missing his woman, missing the warmth of her body next to his, missing the softness of her skin, the heat of her kiss, the-
He could feel his face flushing as he broke off that line of thought as well. It felt . . . wrong to be thinking of her in such a lustful way. Alright, granted that he had justifiable reason to know of her in such a way given that they had been lovers, but having learnt of the hell she'd endured at the hands of the Matou family it somehow felt wrong. It was as though thinking of her in that fashion made him that much more similar to Shinji.
Bastard.
Still, truth be told, he hadn't given his girlfriend as much thought as he should have lately, and in all truth that worried him. he'd thrown away his childhood dreams, his promise to his father, his most fundamental ideal for her, given that she should be on his mind at almost every turn. If he was fighting then he should have at least thought of her, even if only to remember what he was fighting for.
But for some reason he found he'd been thinking of her less and less as the days went by. It wasn't that his emotions for her had dimmed, the mere thought of her filled him with both love and desire, it was just . . .
He felt his brow crease into a frown as he tried to analyse his feelings. His emotions towards her remained strong as ever, so why was it that she seemed to be slipping from his thoughts? Was it something subconscious? A desire to avoid the pain that thinking of how they were separated brought him?
Aaaah! This was frustrating, he'd never been in love before and he had no idea of how to be a good boyfriend to Sakura when the distance of dimensional barriers separated them. But he'd have to do . . . do something. His lover deserved something better than being shoved to the back of his mind simply because thinking about her hurt and frustrated him due to their being apart.
Tomorrow, he decided, tomorrow he'd work out something to remind himself of her. Paint a picture, write a letter, set up a shrine to her, just . . . something.
Maybe when this banquet he'd set up was done with he'd see about getting some books with advice on long distance relationships.
That was his last thought before the heavy blanket of sleep fell over him.
-()-
While the more mortal residents of the manor slept the resurrected souls were still hard at work.
"Ah, Yusuke-san can you please keep an eye on this while I chop the potatoes?"
Suzuki Asuka was in her element and having a very good time of it. Granted all her assistants had had to go to bed as the need for sleep caught up to them, but that was fine with her, she could handle this part alone.
Tomorrow was going to be a banquet fit for the wildest dreams of an emperor, of that she was absolutely determined. Shirou-sama had told her that they would probably only be expecting somewhere between eight or fifteen guests, but that he wanted to feed them all buffet style. Well that was fine with her; if she was meant to feed Kings like him then she would have dreaded having to come up with a suitable menu. Far better to provide them all with a wide selection to choose from, that way they could simply take what they liked.
And this would be a feast fit for a gathering of emperors; she was going to see to that personally.
As a result she'd spent most of the day cooking or partially cooking enough food to serve more than a hundred people. Foods from half a dozen different cultures and in as many different styles. European roasts, Chinese stir fries, Indian bakes, Italian pastas, every recipe that she was confident of and that she'd acquired during her life.
Of course there was no way that it could all be eaten, even if every guest gorged themselves they wouldn't be able to finish a third of it all. However that extravagance, that show of choice and opulence, was part of the show that was as much a part of the feast as the food itself.
Of course the excess food wouldn't go to waste. Some of it would be frozen for later, but most of it would go to ensuring that she wouldn't have to cook another meal to feed the manor's staff for the next couple of days at least. That suited her fine, it would be like a mini holiday, all she'd have to worry about would be making sure the cleaning got done. She could take the rest of the time pretty much off.
"Do you think these vegetables are done?"
The resurrected accountant's words brought her out of her thoughts and back to the situation at hand. Laying down her knife the house keeper moved over and poked the cooking roots.
"Just right, they're a bit underdone. If I leave them like this I can heat them up tomorrow just before we serve them and they'll be cooked to perfection."
With a pleased nod she drained the boiling water and laid the mostly cooked food to the side to cool. As she did so Yusuke seated himself down on one of the kitchens stool chairs and helped himself to a sandwich he'd made earlier.
"So what's your take on this banquet that Shirou-sama is throwing together? I know you're having a ball getting the food ready, but what do you think apart from that?"
Asuka looked up in surprise at the question. Her fellow resurrected soul was munching on a mouthful of bread, cheese, cucumber and tomato and seemed to be totally at ease. Oh well, he had asked and she saw no harm in answering.
"I think it's a good idea." she declared as she returned to chopping her potatoes into long thin chips. Home made French fries, a simple but tasty dish, especially if you knew the right oil to use and the right temperature to use it at.
"Oh?"
The older man's questioning comment was muffled slightly by the partially chewed food in his mouth.
"Yes, I've been having a word with some of my new staff, asking them about the gods and mages and what have you. They told me a bit about the situation Shirou-sama's in as a new Campione. Since he's the newest one to join and since Japan hasn't had one before both him and Kusanagi-sama aren't held in quite the same international regard that the other Kings are. This'll probably change over time as they prove themselves, but for now the Kings of Japan are regarded as junior Campione rather than full fledged ones.
"Setting up this feast is a good move on Shirou-sama's part. It will help him to cultivate his image as well as bring him to everyone's attention. After all, how can they possibly miss this? By calling together the biggest gathering of Kings in recorded history our King had ensured that in less than a week ever single organization in the world will be frantically going over everything they know about him and trying to work out what he'll do next.
"Just let them try to regard him as junior to other Campione then."
Yusuke-san chuckled at that, but beneath it there was a definite hint of iron.
Asuka understood it without him having to say a word. Shirou-sama was a good young man, one who didn't abuse his powers and treated his servants kindly. She shuddered at the thought of what an unscrupulous individual could do with his powers. Even with just his Rule of the Underworld the possibilities were terrifying and revolting. Blackmail, slavery, murder, prostitution, the options that such an ability opened were almost infinite.
She could only thank the same gods that were her King's foes that he was such a man.
Still for all his kindness, all his insistence to those he called to his service that he wasn't a King, every soul that entered his service knew the truth.
Shirou was a King, it was written into his power in words that thundered to those that could perceive it. Though they all called him Shirou-sama to his face, as he requested, in their hearts he was his majesty King Emiya Shirou. And they all took a certain pride in it. The undead house keeper had encountered the other King of Japan, Kusanagi Godou-sama, and while he struck her as a pleasant fellow and even though she could sense the power buried in him she didn't think he was Shirou-sama's equal.
On the other hand she imagined that those girls that followed the seventh Campione about probably said the same thing about the eighth King.
Well, regardless of that this feast would be Shirou-sama's chance to show off, to impress the other Campione. And if it would support her King Asuka was more than happy to pour all her effort into making sure that the food served up would be good enough to make an emperor weep with joy.
"Right then," she muttered aloud as she began rooting about in one of the cupboards, "Where did I put that pasta cutter, can't use pre-made after all, got to make my own."
-()-
Godou sat in one of the armchairs in his home's lounge and stared at the invitation he held in his hands.
Right now it was half past nine in the morning and the invitation had been delivered by a courier company's messenger about half an hour ago. Since then he'd spent the last thirty minutes staring at it and wondering, as he often did of late, what he'd done to deserve such complications in his life.
Oh, right. He'd killed a god.
Shaking his head to try to dismiss his circling thoughts he instead read the short invitation once more.
To his majesty King Kusanagi Godou,
You are cordially invited to the Feast of Kings that his Majesty King Emiya Shirou shall be holding at his manor tonight at 7:00pm.
Please feel free to bring as many guests with you as you see fit, but please understand that those that accompany you shall be under your responsibility.
Formal clothing is not required, feel free to come in whatever apparel you deem appropriate.
King Emiya Shirou hopes that the evening will prove entertaining and that the contest of Kingship will meet your satisfaction.
Yamada Yusuke,
Humble servant to the eighth Campione.
It was really going to happen. When he'd woken up this morning he'd almost been able to convince himself that the events of the previous few days had been nothing more than a troubling dream. But then this had arrived and dispelled his comfortable delusion.
It wasn't that he disliked the other Campione, quite the opposite in the case of the three he would be meeting. In all truth he felt a surprising camaraderie with the black caped King and even if Luo Hao was not an easy person to cope with he found he didn't dislike her company. As for Shirou-san, well . . . his fellow Japanese King was easily the most reasonable of all the Campione he'd met, not that that was saying much.
It was that despite all that he'd been through, all that he'd done, he still considered himself to be a normal person.
He was well aware that the belief was absurd to the point of being comical. Normal people couldn't call down the power of the sun, control lightning bolts or demolish castles single handed, but these were all things that he'd accomplished. Yet despite all that he still couldn't bring himself to mentally categorize himself with people like Luo Hao or Salvatore Doni.
It was as he'd said to the Ruler of the Martial Realm while they were being sealed away by the Monkey King, other than the ability to fight gods he regarded himself as just an ordinary person. That was honestly how he saw himself.
Somehow he felt that if he attended this event then he might not be able to tell that to himself ever again, not if he was being honest.
"So Godou, what are you going to wear?"
The black haired teen actually jumped in surprise as the unexpected voice broke into his thoughts. He looked up to see that Erica was standing behind him and reading the invitation over his shoulder.
When had she arrived? He hadn't heard the door open so how had she gotten in? Oh, wait, never mind. In the past she'd not only entered his home without any trouble she'd also snuck into his room and slipped into bed with him without him waking up, even though he could be a light sleeper. Why on earth was he surprised by her getting in without him noticing given how lost in his thoughts he'd been?
"I have just the right dress to wear; it's rather similar to the one that I was wearing when we first met. Ahh, the memories it will bring back."
"Ah, Erica, I'm still not sure if-"
"So what do you think Yuri will wear? I'll be sure to contact Lily and let her know about the invitation and that she can dress as she sees fit. Hmmm, do you think that Ena-san has anything special to wear if she so chooses?"
"Now Erica, I already said that I wasn't sure if I was going."
The smile that she directed at him was both caring and pitying, rather like a parent looking at a child that doesn't want to take a bath.
"Godou, I know that you're sometimes reluctant to play your part as one of the Kings of Japan but in this case if you don't it will only lead to more trouble down the line."
The young Kusanagi knew that he shouldn't engage her in debate if he wanted to stay true to his course. He was well aware that the blonde knight was more than capable of talking just about anyone round to her point of view just so long as they were at least partly reasonable. He knew this, and yet he still asked the question.
"Why so?"
"This is to be the premier event of the year, possibly even the decade, and it's being held here in your lands. Can you imagine what would happen if you, one of the two kings of Nippon, did not attend?" As she spoke Erica started to pace the room while gesticulating widely. "Others shall begin to wonder why you failed to attend; were you afraid? Does this mean that you are subordinate to Emiya-san? Could it be that you are a weak King? To these others it will hint at weakness, like blood in the water for sharks, and like sharks they'll come.
"Before you know it there will be egotistical mages and upstart challengers breathing down your neck at all hours of the day seeking to establish their reputations by bringing down the weakest Campione."
She turned to face Godou and adopted a pose of remorseful suffering, one arm brought up to press the back of her hand to her forehead in exaggerated sorrow.
"And of course Lily and me will be called back to face our orders as to why we're wasting our time serving this failure of a King. Yuri-chan will also be embarrassed in the eyes of the Committee and . . ."
The Great Knight of the Copper-Black Cross continued to vocalize, but Godou stopped listening for the most part. He was well aware that she was hamming it up for all she was worth, but at the heart of it was a core of truth. He was well aware that much of the power of a Campione was based on their reputation. Was there a chance that not going to this feast would damage his?
Ahhh, this was so troublesome. Why couldn't his life simply be easier?
"-odou? Godou are you listening to me?"
The words of his 'first wife', as she like to call herself, brought him back from his thoughts. Erica was standing in front of him and leaning down to stare at him in the face. He couldn't help but notice the rather nice effect her position had of prominently displaying her female assets to him. It was probably intentional too, given how unashamed the Italian girl was of showing off her body to the object of her affection.
"Godou?!"
"I'm going!"
The words sort of slipped out on their own, but as soon as he said them he knew that he was more or less resigned to go.
"Marvellous, I knew that you'd see reason. Now in regards to what you should wear, I was thinking . . ."
As Erica continued to speak Godou wondered why he even bothered trying to disagree with her. The blonde girl had enough drive in her to lift a shuttle into space. The conclusion was pretty much forgone.
-()-
Shirou was sitting in his study and going over the journal that he'd just begun when the alarm that signified his outermost Bounded Field had been penetrated went off.
The journal was his answer to his feelings about Sakura. He had resolved that every day he would write her a letter in this book telling her about what had happened and how he felt. Maybe once he finally figured out a way home he'd show it to her and they could discuss the various entries.
He'd just been thinking that when the alarm had sounded in his head.
It wasn't the one that indicated an all-out assault by enemy forces, had it been that one then the alarm would have rung out throughout the entire manor rather than just the inside of his skull. This particular alarm was meant to signal that someone had crossed the field surrounding the mansion grounds, but had done so in a stealthy and quiet way rather than simply charging in.
Did this mean that there was an assassin trying to infiltrate his home? Given what was going down tonight he imagined that there would soon be a wealth of targets that would each carry extremely high prices on their heads. However for some reason he didn't think that was the case. Illya had been very careful when she set up the fields around the manor, and while doing so she'd commented that she was going to use a couple of the tricks that their father had used on his home.
Essentially there were multiple fields around the house, each geared to detect a different type of intruder. The field that had just been broken was geared to detect magical attempts to enter the manor. Not to stop them or to interfere with them, simply to detect. Since its effect was so passive it was consequently hard to detect, and it was also acutely sensitive. His adopted sister had boasted that nothing short of someone possessing the Presence Concealment qualities of the Assassin class could get through it without tripping the field.
However it was the second field that was the real prize as far as Shirou was concerned. That one was more or less a copy of the field around his home, the one that his adopted father had set up. It was simple but highly effective, rather than detecting magical power or hidden intruders it was geared solely to sensing hostile intent.
What was interesting in this case was that the first field had been tripped while the second one had not. Whomever it was that had broken in it seemed that they didn't have any hostile or malicious intent. That wasn't guaranteed of course, one of the first rule of Bounded Fields that Illya had imparted upon him was never to think they could be infallible. There was always a way through, always a way to trick them.
He frowned slightly as he felt further fields being . . . not so much tripped as brushed. Whomever it was that was sneaking into his manor was good, very good. To the best of his knowledge the magecraft of Bounded Fields was almost totally alien to the mages of this world. They used some spells that produced similar effects, but the methods behind them were almost totally different. Even gods seemed to have some trouble dealing with them, as evidenced by the fact that it had taken Perseus more than a whole day to find him when he was hidden by Illya's concealment fields.
For a moment he considered going to confront this intruder, then he noticed something else and leaned back into his chair.
It seemed that this mystery trespasser was heading towards him. He could feel them brushing through the numerous internal fields that his adopted sister had set up in her spare time. Most of them were simply for alarm or detection, but if they were armed then a fair number of them would have some nasty but non-lethal effects.
Well, they didn't seem to be doing any damage or threatening his staff. If that was the case then he didn't see any problem with waiting for them here. Illya was still in bed and asleep, given that none of the major alarms had been set off yet, so with any luck he'd be able to get this dealt with before she woke up.
His decision made he closed the leather bound book that was serving as his journal and adjusted his posture so that he appeared to be relaxed, but was in fact ready to take any one of a number of actions available to him. Now, if he wanted to get the best effects out of this he'd have to time it just right. The intruder seemed to be able to use some magic to pass through walls, so in that case they should be entering his study right about . . . now.
"While I appreciate you taking the effort to see me I would have appreciated it if you had rung the bell before entering you know."
Hearing a startled squeak behind him Shirou rotated his swivel chair to face the trespasser in his home. As he did so he couldn't help but give himself a pat on the back, that had been just like that villain in that gaijin movie that he'd seen the other day. He'd have to see if he could work out a way to do it again, it would certainly-
All thoughts of how he could use the trick to mess with his staff were cut off as he saw just who it was that had entered his study.
"Ah . . . Guinevere offers her greetings to you sir Emiya."
It was his first time getting a good look at the girl that he'd fought so hard to defend. Back when he'd first drawn Arondight he'd been completely focused upon fighting Mordred in order to protect. She'd been behind him, and though he'd heard her voice he'd not had the chance to actually look at her. Afterwards, when he'd regained consciousness, he'd still only been half awake before she disappeared. He'd noticed some details, such as her being blonde and quite young, but he'd not really had a chance to get a good look at her.
She was an unquestionably beautiful young girl of about twelve or thirteen years old if he was any judge. Her golden blonde hair was arranged into long curling 'drill' locks similar to some of the heroines in Illya's anime. She was dressed in a pure white dress of European style with lace at her throat and wrists. On her forehead was a small locket like piece of jewellery that managed to lend her the air of a young princess.
Actually . . . she reminded him slightly of Illya for some reason. They were both of a roughly similar age, and both of them possessed a beauty that most girls their apparent age wouldn't normally be capable of.
And they both managed to radiate an aura that subtly hinted at danger and power. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but that was definitely the feeling he was getting from the girl before him, that she had power and that she was dangerous.
So why was her face so flushed?
-()-
This was not going at all how Guinevere had planned this, not at all.
The Divine Ancestor stared at a spot on the floor as she performed a polite, but not subservient, curtsy to the owner of the mansion she'd just entered.
She'd originally decided against leaving Japan in order to spend some time studying this strange Campione that had inexplicably saved her. After all she certainly had motivation; he could somehow wield not only the power of her beloved protector, but also the sword of her dear King. That wasn't something that she could just ignore.
The fact that he had used Excalibur had gnawed at her ever since she'd fled from his presence. How had he come to possess it? As far as she knew only she knew how to resurrect the divine sword from its slumber. Since none others could that should mean that the only times the sword of Salvation should appear would be when her King was resurrected or she had herself brought it about.
So then how could it be that this Emiya Shirou could wield the sacred blade of the King of the End?
There was always the unthinkable option that her Lord had been defeated by this Campione and his sword claimed as an Authority by his vanquisher, but she was certain that such an option was impossible. Not only was her beloved Artus too strong to be defeated by such a young God Slayer, regardless of how talented he seemed to be, but if he had revived then she was sure that she would have sensed it even if she'd been on the other side of the world at the time.
There were simply too many questions and not enough answers. Still, maybe if she could engage him in conversation then she'd be able to coax some information out of him.
Her mind made up the former goddess opened her mouth to speak, brought her eyes up to meet the young man's . . . and found any words she might be about to say were stuck in her throat as it suddenly went dry.
Curse it, why did the young King have to be so attractive? And why did he have to look at her with those eyes that actually held a touch of concern? Didn't he know that as a Divine Ancestor she was practically his enemy by default?
Giving herself a small shake Guinevere forcefully took hold of herself. This was absurd, she was the Witch Queen and more than forty years old despite her appearance. She had come here in the hopes of learning more about this puzzling King and she wasn't going to leave empty handed.
"You do my home honour by coming here Lady Guinevere, though there was no need to enter like a thief. Had you simply announced yourself at the entrance my staff would have been able to provide you with a more . . . courteous reception than this."
That was . . . surprising, rather than being angry at her intrusion he seemed more irritated that he'd not been able to greet her as an honoured guest. She steadfastly ignored the small part of her that was giggling happily at the thought that he wasn't angry with her.
"Guinevere is happy that I have not raised your ire Emiya-sama. Though Guinevere is surprised that you're so welcoming, are not we daughters of the earth not the enemies of you God Slayers?"
"If I regarded you as my enemy do you think I would have moved to save you?"
The eighth Campione's posture was no longer as relaxed as it had been before, now he was sitting up in his chair and facing his guest. Due to the difference in their heights that still left him slightly taller than Guinevere, but at least he wasn't towering over her as much as he would have had he been standing up.
His words did give her an opening though, a chance to ask one of the questions that had been gnawing at her since he'd stood between her and the foul traitor knight.
"Why did you save Guinevere? That sword that you held felt like sir Knight and you said that you would play sir Knight's part, but I don't see how that could have been."
She also remembered him speaking of 'the Heroic Spirit Lancelot', she had no idea of what he was referring to, but whatever that sword had been it had been powerful. She wasn't expecting him to reveal all to her immediately, but she hoped that she would learn something.
"Why would I need a reason to save someone right there in front of me?"
The question was delivered with total sincerity and an absolute lack of any sort of deception as far as the owner of the Holy Grail could tell.
"Guinevere is a Divine Ancestor, should that not make us enemies?"
Even as she said the words the blonde witch was wondering what on earth she was doing. Was she trying to make this Campione her enemy? He was still relatively new to his position, so he may not yet be aware of the 'natural enemies' that God Slayers like him developed. She should be using that to her advantage not . . . not pushing him, not trying to see how he'd react to learning what their traditional roles should be in respect to one another.
"You've done nothing to me and mine that would make you my enemy, so I don't see you as one. Divine Ancestors may clash with Campione, but I've had no trouble with any so far so I bear no animosity to any of you."
For an instant Guinevere contemplated telling him that it had been largely her plan that had allowed the Monkey King to be freed.
"Guinevere, the queen of Camelot and the beloved of Sir Lancelot. That is how the majority of the world knows you. I know that there's more to it, that the truth behind the myth is different, but I have yet to learn it. Still regardless of that I consider myself to be an . . . admirer of King Arthur, his legend helped keep me going during some . . . bad times."
The red haired young man rose from his chair but didn't step towards her. He was tall; the queen of the witches couldn't help but notice. She hadn't seen it before, given that the only time she'd been close to him while he was standing was when she'd been lying on the ground, but for his age he was definitely tall.
For a moment she had to suppress the urge to give herself a slap. Why was she paying so much attention to such inconsequential things as how tall he was, how oddly compelling his brown/golden eyes were, how surprisingly broad for his age his shoulders were, or-
It was only through a monumental act of will that Guinevere managed to keep her face from flushing red once more. She had to be more rational, she had to be scheming, she had to stop acting like a . . . a lovesick schoolgirl.
Lovesick?
Was that it? Was she in love? Had this . . . this child somehow succeeded in capturing her heart? No! No, that couldn't be, that was absurd. Her heart and soul were sworn to her beloved lord, to the King Who Appears at the End of Eras, to Artus who possessed power beyond compare and wielded the sword of divine salvation. The thought, the mere possibility that she might stray was . . . beyond consideration.
"When I found myself as a Campione, A king, I tried to use King Arthur as a sort of role model for how I should act. As you might have guessed there are . . . other connections, but those are my secrets to keep for now."
Come on, she had to get control of herself, not allow these inconsequential thoughts to distract her so. She had to get back on track . . .
Wait, why had she come here again?
It took all the control she could muster not to scream in frustration. This was beginning to border upon the absurd. Were her wits so scattered that she couldn't even keep her thoughts straight?
Clearly she had to fall back and regain her composure before she faced this God Slayer once more. She needed answers, but for the moment it didn't appear that she'd be getting them, not with her mind as tangled as it was right now.
Once more she opened her mouth to speak, to explain that she would now be leaving, but found herself cut off as the young man before her spoke once more.
"Lady Guinevere, as you might be aware tonight I shall be holding a gathering of my fellow Campione for friendly contest of Kingship. Allow me to extend an invitation to attend to yourself."
The former White Goddess was struck completely dumb. What was this? Had she really heard what she thought she'd heard? This was the greatest gathering of God Slayers for the past twelve hundred centuries and he was inviting her to attend? That-That made no sense, what was he thinking? What was going through his head?
"M-Me? B-But sir Emiya, Guinevere is a Divine Ancestor and the maidservant of a god. Surely my presence would not be welcome at such a gathering as the one that you shall soon hold."
Even as she spoke the words she felt like wincing. What was wrong with her today? Her words were stuttered and panicked; it was as though all her normal poise and control were deserting her.
"I once heard of a great King who said: 'the king's words should be heard by everyone, so if someone showed up to hear, it doesn't matter if they're friend or foe'. I have decided to take that to heart, and I see a fine addition to my banquet before me."
For a moment Guinevere's heart froze in her chest. A fine addition to his banquet? Was he threatening her? Was he saying he intended to capture her and keep her as some sort of entertainment to be served up to his guests? And why in the name of all the gods did that thought make her feel both warm and cold?
"Tonight is a Feast of Kings; I think it would not be out of place for a servant to one of the most famed kings of all time to attend. We Campione will be each defending our own path, I offer you the chance to present and defend the path of your honoured king."
Ah, so that's what he meant. The golden haired Witch Queen felt a turbulent mix of relief, shame and . . . disappointment well up within her. She steadfastly ignored the last emotion as she really really didn't want to deal with that now.
"Of course you'll be obliged to attend under the same rules that my fellow Kings have agreed to, there shall be no violence, no scheming, no manipulations of any kind. So long as you agree to that I will assure you my protection. None shall raise hand against you without having to confront me."
"Guinevere would be happy to attend."
The words slipped out all on their own before she could even think of formulating a reply.
Oh.
Oh dear.
Had she just done that? Had she just agreed to attend a gathering of half the world's Devil Kings?
What was she thinking?!
This was the equivalent of a cat voluntarily strolling into the hunting dogs' pound. No, wait, that didn't properly cover it. This was a kitten with delicious raw steaks strapped to its back wandering into an enclosure holding freshly caught wild Siberian timber wolves.
This was madness, this was . . .
He was looking at her, looking at her and smiling.
At the sight of that smile, pleased and grateful, it was as though something in her head had melted into a pile of warm and happy butter. For a moment she could honestly no longer remember why it was such a bad idea to attend this young King's feast.
"My thanks lady Guinevere, I intend to begin the Feast at Seven o'clock, I trust that there won't be any problems attending?"
Doing her best to pull her brain back into some sort of coherent operation the Divine Ancestor could only silently shake her head.
"Excellent," sir Emiya turned back to his desk, "I believe I have an invitation here somewhere, just hold on a moment and I'll . . ."
As soon as his back was turned Guinevere fled.
She was well aware that it was hardly the most elegant or graceful way of dealing with her issues, but at that point she could honestly say that she didn't care. All she wanted was to get out of there before those lovely brown/gold eyes melted her brain enough for her to agree to another lunatic request.
As she turned into a gust of wind and flew out of the manor she stubbornly ignored the fact that she was already resolved to honour her agreement to attend tonight's Feast.
Arrrgggh, what had she done?
-()-
What had he done?
Shirou waited at his desk as soon as he had felt the Divine Ancestor leave the room.
He waited for a minute.
Then he waited for another minute.
Then, just to be careful, he waited for three more minutes.
After that, secure in the knowledge that Guinevere was not going to return, he began beating his head on the surface of his desk.
THUNK, THUNK, THUNK.
The sound of his forehead bouncing off the mahogany wood of his work top was oddly pleasing, but it did little to calm his nerves.
What had he done? What had he done?!
It had been as though he had slipped so far into his role as the 'faker king' that he'd made the offer before thinking it through all the way. It had simply seemed like a good idea at the time so he'd said it. Maybe he'd been channelling Iskander a bit too much, this seemed like the kind of magnificently hair-brained thing he'd do if given the opportunity. After all she was Guinevere, granted he didn't know what kind of person she'd been in this world, she might have been loyal to Arthur, betrayed him with Lancelot, he just didn't know. What he did know was that she was connected to this world's version of Saber and he wanted to know more about that particular subject.
Still, this . . . this was potentially disastrous. Bringing a Divine Ancestor to a meeting of Campione . . . it was like bringing a nice fatted piglet to a 'who can raise the most ferocious wolf' competition.
No, wait, that wasn't quite accurate. Taking a deep breath Shirou steadied his nerves.
Yes Divine Ancestors were the traditional enemies of Campione. Yes John Pluto Smith had spent the last two years fighting the schemes of one in Los Angeles. And yes Luo Hao had blithely sacrificed one in order to facilitate the revival of the Monkey King. Still that didn't mean that they would all attack her the minute he introduced her this evening. All he had to do was get the timing and the wording right and with any luck this wouldn't all blow up in his face.
As he turned back to finish writing his letter to Sakura in his Journal he idly he wished that Rin was here. There was a girl that didn't have any trouble twisting any situation around her little finger.
On the other hand if the Tohsaka heir had been here she'd probably already have become the most powerful Campione in the world and been a good way down the road towards world conquest. He honestly wouldn't put it past her.
With a smile on his lips he resolved to finish this letter and then start working on the gifts he had planned.
-()-
The god arrived on the shores of the chain of islands in the Far East. Japan, that was what this land was called these days.
It had been a long time since he'd been here, since he'd enjoyed the pleasures this culture had to offer. On the other hand when last he'd come to this land the forbearers of samurai had still been engaging in their early wars, chaos and anarchy had ruled more thoroughly than even any lord or emperor.
Still that wasn't why he was here. It was not pleasure or battle he sought.
It was freedom.
The power within him, that wonderful but incomplete power, had led him here. It had been a slow process, painstakingly following the tiny indications that his new ability had shown. However little by little his search had narrowed. Slowly but surely he had closed in upon his prey.
It was here, somewhere in this land. The rest of the power he sought, the missing pieces that would make it complete.
It was still a far off goal, but he had patience. He would track down his quarry, he would complete the power that was door, key, lock and hinge all in one. He would make it his own, and then . . .
Freedom.
Glorious freedom without limits, without ends. A fresh horizon every day, one he had no idea of what it hid. New discoveries, new enemies, new allies, new adventures.
An escape from this . . . this small, tiny, confining world.
An immortality was a long time to live, long enough to see everything, long enough to do everything, long enough to exhaust the possibilities of an entire world.
But with this power he'd be free of that, there would be new worlds, new experiences.
All he had to do was find them.
Stepping forwards he continued the hunt.
-\-\-\-\-\-\-\
Shirou's new Authorities.
The Armours of the Knight – this Authority allows Shirou to manifest any one of four different sets of armour. It is derived from the aspect of Steel that Mordred had developed over the millennia of his existence, but has been altered to a degree so as to be more compatible with its new wielder.
As this Authority has a large number of powers it is also subject to a number of limitations. Firstly in order to manifest any of the armours Shirou must make a sacrifice of Steel in order to activate the Authority. These sacrifices must consist of a metal tool or weapon with a sufficiently 'weighty' existence to be acceptable. An aspect of this Authority is that Shirou can intuitively tell what is and what isn't a suitable sacrifice simply by seeing it. However this limitation is relatively easy to get around since Traced weapons are acceptable sacrifices.
Secondly while it is possible for Shirou to shift from one armour directly to another he can only use each armour once. After he leaves it he must wait for twenty four hours before he can use it again.
Thirdly each armour has different aspects and compatibilities, meaning that while wearing it there are certain Authorities or abilities that Shirou can't use.
(-)
Armour of the Champion – The first and simplest of the armours. This version is derived from the aspect of Mordred having served for years as one of the greatest and most famed Knights of the Round Table before he became the Knight of Treachery.
The armour serves to increase both his strength and speed by a minor degree, but its true power lies in its defensive capabilities. Its protective powers are comparable to the Body of Steel Authority possessed by Salvatore Doni while wearing this armour it is possible for Shirou to survive a direct attack even if it is of A++ rank. Of course doing so would probably leave him unconscious and injured and would certainly break the armour itself. Lesser attacks equal to or below A rank can be simply shrugged off with minimal difficulty.
Should Shirou be wounded when he dons this armour then those wounds will immediately begin to heal at an accelerated rate. However this enhanced healing will not work upon any wounds that he might take while wearing the armour.
However for all its defensive powers there is a point at the base of the spine where this armour is flawed, a physical representation of the flaw of pride and greed that led the champion knight to turn on his king. While still impervious to mortal weapons and most magics at this point it is possible for a D ranked weapon or power to break through.
Another useful, though minor, aspect of this armour is that it imparts an aura of charisma upon its wearer that serves to bolster the morale of allies and lower that of enemies. Though this effect is subtle it does provide an advantage to any group or force that Shirou might lead against another.
In terms of compatibility this armour is largely unrestricting, while wearing it Shirou can use all his other Authorities and suffers from only a slight increase in the cost to his Tracing.
This armour is Shirou's favourite of the four as it combines with his fighting style quite well as it takes care of all his defensive concerns and leaves him free to concentrate on attacking.
(-)
The Black Knight's Armour – An armour born from the legend of the Black Knight that Mordred propagated during his service to Artus.
Wearing this armour provides a moderate boost to all physical stats as well as protection from harm. However this armour is considerably more fragile than the Amour of the Champion and can be broken or shattered by forces comparable to a B ranked Noble Phantasm.
The greatest asset that this armour provides is an ability similar but different to the Presence Concealment possessed by Assassin class Servants. As long as the wearer of this armour is not being observed by direct line of sight then they are completely undetectable. They cannot be seen via technological means, nor can they be detected or tracked by such markers as scent or sound.
In addition to that the black armour also renders mystical means of information gathering useless to all intents and purposes. It will not allow him to be tracked, scryed or divined. In much the same way as Mordred it will not allow any aspect of its wearer's identity or secrets to be uncovered using mystic means.
While wearing this armour Shirou can't use Dragon Slaying Hero, the Hero's Bride or Ruler of the Underworld. Souls and riches that have been called up will remain, but no new ones can be called. Should he use Mount of the Hero while wearing the armour then the Pegasus will turn black and possess the same aspects as the armour.
This Authority has a good degree of compatibility with Curses without End, consequently while wearing it Shirou can recreate Mordred's black mist by radiating curses while using the armour as a medium. The mist will both obscure the enemy's vision as well as inflict the curses upon them, however the Prana cost to do so is quite high to maintain.
Shirou generally uses this as 'stealth armour' for when he seeks to be concealed or be sneaky. In battle he prefers not to use it since it limits so many of his other Authorities while at the same time being the most fragile of his armours, but he recognizes that the Black Mist of Curses is a powerful option to use.
(-)
Steel for the Legion – This Authority is a combination of the aspects of Mordred and Mars. Both were famed for leading armies, for giving them strength, this armour is an embodiment of that aspect.
Rather than being worn by Shirou this Authority allows him to clad those that serve him in armour of their own. Each suit is of a similar design, but tailored in order to perfectly fit the strengths and styles of its wearer. Those who favour speed and agility will be clad in light armour while those trusting in strength and endurance will wear heavier armour of plate and mail. These suits of armour can also be worn by non-humans such as Snow and will function just as well for them as for anyone else.
Wearing the armour provides a different effect upon any who wear it because rather than giving them a set enhancement it instead serves to boost their strengths. Warriors that wear it will find the abilities increased in accordance to their fighting styles, mages will find their reserves boosted or their elemental affinities increased. If those who are granted the armour are holding weapons or tools, such as wands or staffs, then they will also be enhanced by the power of this armour to act in accordance with it.
Granting this armour to others is a relatively cheap ability as far as Prana costs go. If he so chose Shirou could outfit as many as nine hundred and ninety nine individuals at the cost of only a third of his reserves. Once granted the armour requires only a minute trickle of power from him in order to remain manifested, such that even with so many Shirou can maintain them as long as his reserves are at least at one percent.
These armours can only be granted to those that are within Shirou's line of sight, though after that he can dismiss them through an act of will even if they are miles away from him. Should he shift to another armour then all versions of this armour will vanish as soon as he does.
While Shirou has this Authority activated his Tracing abilities are severely impaired. Though the Prana cost of any weapon he Traces remains the same the length of time in which he can complete those Tracings is increased to five times its previous length. Also Shirou can no longer Trace more than a single Noble Phantasm at a time (Paired Noble Phantasms such as Kanshou and Bakuya are the exception to this since their existence is tied close enough together that they count as a single Noble Phantasm). As a result Shirou's ability to use Tracing mid-battle is effectively crippled.
Shirou generally uses this Authority to lend his power to his allies when it's necessary for them to fight alongside him.
(-)
Titan Knight – This armour represents what Mordred would have achieved had he been able to completely shift his Dragon aspect into Steel, the result is a colossus of Steel.
This armour is eight metres tall and appears armed with a proportionately sized broadsword and shield. Shirou himself merges with this armour and can control it as though it were his own body. He can also increase the size of the armour at will to a maximum of fifty metres tall, however while doing so increases strength proportionately to its size both resistance to magic and damage remain the same and agility decreases severely. Essentially Shirou trades the ability to hit harder for being a bigger and slower target.
Titan Knight can in many ways be regarded as one of Shirou's most powerful Authorities. In this state all his physical stats increase to the A++ rank or even A+++ if he pushes himself. Both the weapons that he wields in this form can be regarded as A+ ranked Noble Phantasms and can channel his prana in a state similar to the Prana Burst skill at the B rank. Additionally the armour is itself is as resistant to damage as the Armour of the Champion meaning that only Noble Phantasms or attacks above A rank can damage it. In many ways this armour can be regarded as a mobile fighting fortress.
The inside of the armour is composed of living semisolid molten metal. Whenever the armour is cut or breached this molten steel will bleed forth to cool and seal up the 'wound'. The life force that powers the armour has 'centres' located where the heart and the brain should be, as a result these are 'vital' points and damage to them can be enough to take the armour out in a single hit. In the event that this armour is 'slain' then it will automatically revert to Shirou who will be uninjured, however in such an event a full half of his Prana will be lost as a result.
As the ultimate representation of what Mordred hoped to be this armour also possesses a powerful anti-dragon aspect. When faced with an enemy with draconic attributes Shirou can discard the standard weapons of this armour and instead materialize a sword and shield that embody these anti-dragon abilities. The shield can be elementally attuned to negate a dragons breath attacks, fire can be deflected, poison absorbed, ice dispersed. However it can only be attuned to a single element at a time. The sword is similar to Arondight in that it will deal double damage to dragons, but it can also serve as a channel for Shirou's prana to create a 'phantom blade' over the sword effectively doubling its length.
Though extremely powerful this armour also has more conditions and drawbacks than any of the others. While using it Shirou cannot use any other Authority, Souls and riches that have been called up will remain, but no new ones can be called. The same applies to the monsters created by Curses without End and Snow. (Incidentally Snow cannot increase his size to the point where he can serve as a mount for this armour.) The same applies to Shirou's magic since the body created by this Authority lacks magic circuits. As a result no new weapons can be Traced, no information gained by Structural Grasping and no skills faked through Tracing. Shirou must use his own skills.
In addition to this unlike the other armours after it has been used Shirou must wait seventy two hours before he can use it again.
The Bloodstained Fields – This Authority is the result of the other half of Mordred's dual nature and represents his Earth aspect. Even though all of this god's incarnations were deities of war almost all of them had some connection to the powers of Earth even as they became Steel. Laran was the lover of Turan and so a symbol of male fertility and potency, a role that was repeated by Ares and Aphrodite. Mars was the lover of Venus, but he was also know as the guardian of agriculture and the defender of crops and was born from the body of the Earth goddess Juno with a herb for a father. Even Mordred was known to have taken part in pagan ceremonies that blessed the land and strengthened the crops.
It also connects to the primal aspects of his original nameless self: which was little more than an incarnation of violence and bloodshed, and Laran, who though civilised still retained connections to his berserker roots.
This nature has been altered and condensed into a single Authority for Shirou.
The Bloodstained Fields can only be activated after Shirou has taken a certain amount of damage and shed at least a drop of blood onto the ground. Once activated the Authority imposes a field upon the local world in a manner vaguely similar to a Reality Marble, though without the effect of cutting it off from the world. This new landscape takes the form of a number of farmer's fields; together they are square in shape and a kilometre in length on each side. The grass plains will impose themselves over anything in the area, for example cars will become bump in the ground while larger impediments, such as trees or houses, will be shifted into a separate dimension until the Authority is released. This effect also applies to 'non-combatants', any who are fighting, who possess a violent intent, will be caught in the effects of the field. Those who are simply living out their lives peacefully will not even be aware of being dimensionally shifted. The same applies to those trying to enter or leave the field, those who are peaceful will be dimensionally shifted and left unaware of what is going on, those with aggressive intent will find themselves trapped within the Authority.
Once caught in it the effects of the field are dependant upon how much blood is shed upon them. As more blood touches the earth two effects manifest, the first is upon the combatant. Their aggressiveness and anger will begin to increase even as composure and rationality will decrease. In addition a stats boost is provided to all physical attributes and all pain is numbed to the point where it can be ignored. The potency of these effects is proportional to the amount of blood that has been shed. The theoretical maximum of this Authority would allow even a regular magus to reach Servant level abilities, though at the cost of all rationality to the point where they are little more than a masterless Berserker unable to distinguish friend from foe. When employed against Heretic Gods or Campione the effect takes longer to take hold and is slower to accumulate, but will eventually have similar results, although the resulting berserker will be absurdly powerful. The exact rate of its effect will be determined by the potency of their Magic Resistance.
This effect will be imposed upon ALL within the fields that posses any form of aggression, enemies, bystanders that are simply irritated, friends, all will be caught in it. Since the effect of the fields is essentially a hostile curse this means it will affect Shirou as well, though his Magic Resistance as a Campione means that the rate of effect is fairly slow,
The second effect of the fields is the Blooming of the Bloody Harvest. As more and more blood is spilt the field will begin to sprout forth a wheat corn like plant that has a head of blood red berries. These berries contain the harvested power from the blood that has been spilt; consuming them will heal the one taking them as well as slowing the loss of rationality effect.
However only the owner of this Authority can collect them, should any other try then the berries will immediately release their stored power in a destructive blast comparable to a small grenade going off.
This Authority is not one that Shirou enjoys using. Though he tries to be pragmatic in the use of his powers he feels that this one is, for want of a better term, too dirty. Though it causes his enemies to lose their skills and intelligence even as both he and they grow stronger he dislikes the way it affects his own mind and that it will also affect any allies caught in it as well. Consequently he regards this Authority only as a weapon of last resort.
It should be noted that this Authority has no incompatibilities with any of his other Authorities or his magecraft, however if he is sufficiently affected by the loss of rationality then he'll eventually lose the mental faculties needed to even remember they exist, let alone use them. Since Shirou's base physical abilities are inferior to a Heretic God's that means that without them he's actually weaker than his foe, despite the stats boost the Bloodstained Field provides. Therefore he must use the effects of the berries; otherwise this Authority will actually, to all intents and purposes, guarantee his defeat.
-/-/-/-/-
OMAKE: What Might Wait For Shirou.
"Of course there will be no trouble getting the shipment ready in time. Just make sure that the money has been paid into my account and that the deeds to the property have been sent to me in time."
As she put the phone down Rin rubbed her hands in delight. Not only were her coffers swelling but now the entirety of the former Tohsaka estate had been returned to her control and a bit more besides as well.
And it was all thanks to her lovely new money maker.
-()-
Down in the basement Shirou hung upside down from the ceiling suspended in a veritable cocoon of chains covered in runes. Beneath him was a large tub half filled with gold and gems.
He nodded to himself as he came to a conclusion.
Upon careful consideration it might not have been the smartest thing to brag about Rule of the Underworld to Rin just after she'd received her latest back statement.
After all he might be a Campione, a god slaying King wielding powers beyond the dreams of mortal magi, but she was Tohsaka Rin.
Enough said.
With a sigh he filled up the rest of the tub. Hardly the most dignified thing to do, but it was better than Rin coming down to 'motivate' him while carrying that whip and being dressed up in that little leather number.
Where the hell had she gotten the idea that he liked that kind of thing?
And what was Sakura going to say when she found out?
-()-
Shirou sat up in bed and patted himself down to make sure he wasn't, in fact, wrapped in chains.
Okay, that had been disturbing on a number of levels. Even with the memories he'd received from the versions of himself that had enjoyed . . . intimate relations with the black haired genius there sure as hell shouldn't have been any call for chains, whips and leather. Maybe he should invest in a few evenings reading a psychology book.
And maybe he should see about getting some sort of escape Authority before he went home.
Just to be on the safe side.
Really.
