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.

Well here's the second half of the Feast of the Kings, sorry it took so long but as you can see it just kept on growing on me. As you can see it's a good thing I split it or by the time I was finished it would have been something like a ridiculous 50,000 words long. It would seem that my writing style simply isn't suited to writing shorter chapters, but that's something I'm going to have to work on.

Something I forgot to write in my last chapter was to say that I've finally crossed the 290,000 hits threshold. That is AMAZING, when I started writing this fic I honestly never expected that it would be as well received as it was. I'd just like to say thank you to all my readers and an especially big thank you to all my reviewers.

A lot of people have written to me that Titan Knight shouldn't affect Shirou's Magic Circuits because they are part of him spiritually rather than physically. I'd like to reply that all my research shows that they are, and I quote, 'pseudo-nerves within a magus' body' and that means that they are subject to change if the magus' body enters an altered state. Because Titan Knight is a wholly inhuman body it doesn't have any physical Circuits to use.

A fair number of people have asked me about the creatures that the mad mage has cooked up. Well for the time being I'm leaving that deliberately vague. I have plans for both it and it's creator, but I don't want to tie myself down to any route just yet so I'm leaving that up in the air.

SPOILERS.

I admit to having played a bit with both Luo Hao and John Pluto Smith. The thing is that their pasts aren't well described in the Light Novels; consequently I'm having to fill in the gaps a bit with my own inventions. I've tried to remain as true to their original portrayal as I can, but I'm sorry if I've slipped up.

The part where the various Kings are discussing their dreams and goals was a bit hard to write. In the end I was fairly satisfied that I was able to capture their personalities and aspects correctly, but it was something of a struggle to do it. I think my biggest stumbling block is how I've portrayed Shirou's revelation to some of his past. I know my Shirou is a bit different to how he was in canon, but I've tried to keep to how I honestly think he'd have developed if he'd been in the circumstances I've cooked up for him. His revealing about what happened with Sakura is an important part of his current personality, important enough that I think he would have spoken of it in circumstances like my Feast.

My apologies if Guinevere speaking of her King sounds like me repeating myself from an earlier chapter. I felt it was important for my story that Shirou and the other Campione learnt about Artus earlier and in a bit more detail than they did in the canon. Also I'm not too sure if the story Guinevere relates to the Campione is wholly accurate. The Campione! novels have been giving hints about the King of the End for a fair bit now, but there's still little concrete info. What I've got here is my own notion of what happened in Japan before Artus returned to sleep; it may become non-canon after the next book is released.

I had considered having Shirou try to imitate Iskander by combining his undead soldiers with Steel for the Legion. However in the end I felt that lacked the right amount of impact since he could hardly equal the number of Ionioi Hetairoi. In the end I decided to go with Titan Armour simply because it was the most impressive overkill option I could think of that wouldn't leave the entire local area a smoking ruin.

In regards to the gifts that Shirou gives to his fellow Kings; all of these Noble Phantasms are ones that have passive effects rather than activated ones, meaning that anyone can use them. I admit to playing around a bit loosely with Trap of Argalia and Houtengeki. The info I could find on them was a bit sparse so I've had to use my own invention to fill in the blanks as it were.

This chapter also sees Shirou receive his first official title as the King of Steel. Originally I was planning for Shirou to end up being titled the King of Knights, an oddly ironic chapter given his relationship with Saber, but in the end I chose not to. Him getting that title felt a bit too much like him stepping into Saber's shadow, so instead I cooked up a new title which I thought appropriate given the fact that he'd laid claim to the title of the Strongest Steel during his battle with Mordred.

At the bottom of this chapter are a couple of Omakes. The first is just a short and silly gag that was suggested by one of my readers. I would like to thank whomever it was that gave me the idea. Unfortunately I can't find the review or message so I can't thank you by name, sorry. The second Omake is actually a story idea that I'm putting up for adoption. Please see the bottom of the chapter for details.

Once again i would like to thank my Beta for all his work and suggestions that have gone into getting this chapter ready for my readers.


God Slaying Blade Works: Chapter Fifteen: The Feast of the Kings Part Two

The four Campione sat about the table. Sitting between Shirou and John Pluto Smith was Guinevere bringing the total of those there to five.

Five beings of immense power each of whom had come here tonight knowing that this contest would be forever recorded as one of the defining moments in the magical communities histories.

"In all truth I was a bit unsure of how to conduct this contest," The voice of the eighth Campione broke the silence as he addressed all at the table with him. "I am modelling this Feast of ours after another one that I heard of, however at that gathering of Kings they had a wish granting device to serve as both prize and conversation piece. Each of them spoke of their wish and so of their Kingship. Of course we do not have such an artefact to discuss, so instead I suggest the question; 'What do you wish for with your power'? I think that should get us started on the right path. From there we can see what shall develop."

As Shirou spoke Kaida came to the table bearing a tray with five wine filled crystal glasses upon it. Without a word she placed one before each occupant of the gathering and then just as quietly retreated. When the host had finished speaking and glanced down at the glass before him Luo Hao spoke.

"While sampling the fine drinks that your servant had provided for this Feast King Shirou I stumbled across this most delectable wine. Rather than consume it all myself I thought that such a superb vintage would serve as an excellent accompaniment to our contest." With one hand she picked up the glass and took a delicate sip, around the table the others did likewise. Shirou knew that he was no great authority upon the virtues of a wine's attributes, but even an amateur like him could tell that this was a superior vintage. Sweet yet slightly smoky, with a pleasant aftertaste and a mature smoothness to it. Mentally he made a note to ask Yusuke about it later and see if he could get some more.

"This notion of yours has merit, as the most senior on the path of the God Slayer here I shall go first. Do any object?"

A quick glance around the table showed that Shirou and Smith seemed to have no problems with letting another go first while Godou seemed relieved that someone was going to set an example rather than him having to be put on the spot.

"Very well then Sempai, what is it that you wish for with your power?"

The Ruler of the Martial Realm didn't hesitate for even a moment; clearly she had long known the answer to the eighth Campione's question.

"I seek defeat."

There was a pause as all around the table stared at the Chinese beauty in confusion. This unbelievably skilled and egotistical woman sought failure? That seemed to make no sense at all.

"I fear that you will need to explain your answer to us further your Eminence." Commented Smith as he leaned back in his chair.

"I have been a Supreme Ruler for centuries now. In that time I have mastered my Authorities and then gone on to use my extended life to master all martial arts that I deemed worthy as well as the Daoist Arts. As my skills grew I found it harder and harder to find martial arts masters that could provide me with instruction, then I could find none that could provide me with an enjoyable battle, let alone defeat. I soon found that my skills and strength had grown to the point where even if I handicapped myself I could not find those who could match me.

"I found myself wondering; what the point was to having attained supremacy? For normal masters it was so that they could spend their youths improving their skills and then spend their later years passing that knowledge onto their students so that the next generation could further improve them. For me though there was no end to my youth, no waning to my vigour. My skills improved constantly and age did not touch me. I gained the power of gods and integrated it into my style. It became so that even if I chose not to use the Authorities that I had gained not even the finest prodigy of martial or magical arts could stand against me.

"So I sought out the only foes that were now worthy of me, my fellow Kings and the Heretic Gods. I sought those that could defeat me so that I might once more taste my weakness, so that I could find it, learn it and then crush it to emerge once more stronger than I had been before. However in time even the other Kings of this world failed to engage my interest. Even my battles with that sword wielding knight from Italy and that stubborn British fellow failed to truly interest me.

"It is why I have been so pleasantly surprised by the young Kings of this land. One faced this Luo Cuilian in open combat that was most invigorating and drew a most admirable draw from our battle. The other has twice challenged me in competition and both times has achieved a draw with me as well."

In all honesty Shirou wasn't too sure of how he should take such an answer. Maybe it was because he had faced so many whose powers surpassed him by far, but he could not conceive of ever becoming so powerful that he would actively seek defeat. To his knowledge not even Gilgamesh had achieved such absolution in his own power. On the other hand he acknowledged that he was young, even with all the additional memories of his other selves, perhaps in a couple of centuries he'd end up feeling the same.

"An interesting desire sempai," he commented, "Is that why you have come to base your Kingship upon your martial power? Because it is what you have spent so much time upon?"

"Exactly King Shirou," Declared Luo Cuilian as she pointed her folded fan at him. "It is as I said to both you and King Godou; Luo Cuilian can slaughter thousands of soldiers with a simple punch or kick, and slay tens of thousands with just a wave of a blade or a spear. Were I to display the true essence of my martial arts, mighty armies of millions would be turned into mountains of corpses and rivers of blood. All lands would be wiped out, leaving nothing but mountains and rivers. Having attained such a level of strength that it is surpasses any empire in the world's history is it not natural that such force would be a suitable right to rule?"

"And what of the Holy Cult of the Five Mountains?" enquired Smith from where he was sitting, "I'm curious as to how that came about."

"Ah, that was the work of my first student. Using the skills I had taught him he rose to the top of the martial world and became the summit that all admired. After he had organized the various factions that swore loyalty to him into a single group he found me once more and pledged the entire organization to me in gratitude for the instruction I had given him. Since his passing I have remained the cult's unquestioned leader and have taken it upon myself to personally train each generation of the leadership beneath me. As it so happens my young eagle is the great-great grandson of the student who founded the Five Mountains."

Shirou blinked once as he cocked his head slightly. What the beautiful martial artist had revealed more or less confirmed his suspicions of her. In a way it was something of a relief to know that she truly wasn't as blindly arrogant as he had feared she might be. Her ego may be titanic, but it was so because of her achievement s, not because she believed everyone else to be worthless.

"So then what do you intend to do after this Feast sempai? Have you any new plans to put into effect after what has happened to you here in Japan?"

"Naturally I intend to address the flaws that my little brother has shown me exist in my style. It will be the first real retraining I've had to do in nearly four decades." Her face broke into an elegant but pleased smile, "I must say that this Luo Hao is actually looking forwards to it. It shall be most satisfying to need to develop a new training regime and new exercises once more. Apart from that I shall devote some time to thinking of how I may best begin to educate my new sworn brother on the correct ways of conduct and courtesy. If I am to raise him into a hero worthy of our relationship then I must be assiduous in my efforts."

Off to the side Godou was beginning to look a bit on the hunted side. Then his face calmed and he addressed the Ruler of the Martial Realm.

"Ah, but Nee-san, might that end up reducing our standing in the eyes of others?"

Luo Hao frowned slightly as she turned to face the seventh Campione.

"What do you mean little brother?"

"If . . . if others see you spending too much time on my education then it might incite rumours that you do not feel I am strong enough to stand alone. That in turn may lead to slanderous rumours about your own skill as people will wonder how someone as weak as they would suspect me of being could manage to battle you to a draw."

Shirou had to admit that the black haired teen had a gift for picking the right words for the right time. He could practically see the wheels turning in the elder Campione's head as her thought process led her to the conclusion that Godou sought to guide her to.

"Well reasoned out Godou," Luo Cuilian agreed with a nod, "Though it pains me to have to be remiss in your training I can see where my attention might well lead the ignorant and the foolish to misinterpret the attention that I would place into your education. Instead I shall place my faith in your talent and trust that with only occasional advice and instruction you shall be able to raise yourself into a young hero worthy of adoption into the Luo family name."

"I-I think I'll be able to manage." The seventh Campione agreed as he sat back in his chair and let out a carefully concealed sigh of relief.

After taking another sip from the wine glass in his hand Shirou once more addressed the eldest of the Campione present once more.

"So then sempai, your desire is challenge and your rule is Martial Supremacy? I thank you for your explanation."

As his sempai gave him a nod of acknowledgement John Pluto Smith leaned forwards.

"Since her Eminence is now finished allow me to be next, do any object?"

Since none contested the American King's desire to be the next Shirou turned to him.

"Very well then Smith, what is it that you wish for with your power?"

"I seek to drive all evil from the shores of my land for all eternity and ensure the peaceful and untroubled lives of all my subjects."

There was a moment of silence as all those present stared at the costumed Campione. Shirou could understand their bemusement, such a goal sounded so . . . childlike. It was the wish of a character in a children's cartoon, not the ambition of the King of the magical societies in America.

And what's more it sounded entirely too much like the childish dream that he'd inherited from his adoptive father and had pursued for so long, the wish to save everyone. He might have cast that goal aside, but it still held a powerful hold on him, after all it wasn't a bad ideal even with all its flaws and foolishness.

"I can see on all your faces what you are thinking," commented Smith as he rested his elbows on the table and interlaced his gloved fingers, "That this is the wish of a child, that it is an impossible dream that can never be realized. These are truths that I'm fully aware of."

As he spoke the King of the Underworld gestured in the direction of the rest of Tokyo.

"Humans are interesting in our diversity, but that very strength is also our greatest weakness. For every person that is willing to work with another in order to accomplish something there will be another that will refuse. It is the curse of our race that our ability to co-operate to achieve is matched only by our ability to come into conflict over disagreement.

"I'm well aware that as long as there is free will then there will be those that exercise that will by striking out at their fellows. As long as there is power to be had there will be those that are willing to throw away all human decency in order to grab some for themselves. When they seek to use magic to profit from the losses of the innocent masses or from those weaker than themselves then it is the obligation of those with power and authority to bring the hammer of justice down upon these miscreants."

The eighth Campione found himself feeling oddly compelled by the words of the American King. By the sounds of it he was well aware of the futility of his goal, how it was impossible to save everyone, and yet despite that he seemed to be at peace with that. His theatrical manner and over the top behaviour didn't seem to be designed to conceal any despair or hopelessness. This was . . . intriguing.

"I am a firm believer in 'Noblesse oblige'; if I am the King then it is my duty to enforce justice. I may force some hardship upon those that I protect by needing to tax them for my protection, and I may lord my status as King over all in my domain, but in the end all know that I shall battle injustice and evil wherever I find it"

The caped God Slayer gestured extravagantly.

"And as a King is it not most appropriate for me to set myself the most interesting of goals? Well I have chosen a goal that not even the maddest and most powerful god will ever be able to succeed in. I have guaranteed my own failure."

John Pluto Smith leaned back in his chair and somehow managed to convey the notion that he had an incredibly smug grin on under his mask.

"And in so doing I shall fail magnificently, indeed my failure shall tower colossus like over the paltry successes of others. After all why waste time aiming for that which can easily be achieved, I'd much rather aim for the Sun and if in failing I should achieve the moon . . . well, at least I shall then know my measure."

"An interesting approach King Smith," commented Luo Hao as she tapped her fan against her cheek. "A magnificent foolishness indeed. One certainly worthy of a King."

"Hey Smith, do you mind if I ask a question?"

In comparison to the theatricality of the costumed King or the imperiousness of the Ruler of the Martial Realm Godou's polite but ordinary tone should have seemed . . . weak, tepid, by comparison. At least it should have done. In defiance of rationality and expectation his voice none the less managed to carry as much weight as the others.

It was enough to make Shirou allow himself a small grin. The seventh Campione might be somewhat uncomfortable with his role, but that didn't change the fact that he was a King whether he liked it or not.

"But of course Godou-kun, that is the purpose of this contest, feel free to question me as you wish."

"I kind of wondered, why you chose to dress up like that? I mean, why the mask and outfit?"

There was a brief pause as everyone stopped to process the question. Shirou realized that he'd honestly not really thought to consider that himself. He'd been more focused on Smith's style and ideals, but now that he thought about it he had to admit he was curious as to why the Campione of Los Angeles had donned a costume in the first place.

"Ah, the answer to that is fairly simple," Smith commented as he rested an elbow on the arm of his chair and leant his chin on it. "I chose to disguise myself so that I didn't need to be a King at all times, on occasion it is pleasant to not have people treating you as their ruler. After the first few times that I had to appear I decided that if I was going to be disguised then I might as well have fun while doing so. The final result was my most beloved attire that has become the garb for which I am so well known."

To highlight his words the King seized one of the edges of his cape and gave it a small flourish.

"My thanks for sating our curiosity Smith;" Shirou declared as he nodded in the caped King's direction, "It is interesting that you would choose to create another identity to serve as the face of the King. I can see the advantages to such an approach. Still what are your plans for after this Feast, when you return to your homeland?"

"I believe I shall continue as before. My time in Japan ha been a fine adventure and I have had the privilege of making some most excellent allies, but unlike her Eminence there shall be little to impact upon my activities once I return."

"So then, would I be right in saying that your desire is the impossible justice and your kingship would be that of the Hero King?"

"An intriguing and flattering choice of words Shirou, but accurate I would say."

As John Pluto Smith nodded his agreement he raised the glass of wine that had sat before him and took a sip through his mask.

"I-I think I'll go next."

Godou's declaration began with a slight hitch, but his voice quickly firmed and grew strong.

"Very well then Godou," the eighth Campione agreed, "Then please tell us, what is it that you wish to do with your power?"

There was a pause as the black haired young man seemed to take a moment to organize his thoughts.

"What I want . . . is to live a normal life, graduate school and get a job that I can excel at using my own talents and hard work."

There are moments in life where you just know that if they were part of some sort of television program that there would HAVE to be appropriate sound effects. In response to Godou's declaration the silence around the table was so complete that Shirou thought it was the perfect time to hear a cricket chirping in the background.

"Err, Godou, you do know-" The host of the Feast began, then cut off as the seventh Campione held up a hand to forestall further words.

"Yes, I know that that's completely ridiculous, but you did ask what I wanted, not what I expected." As he spoke Godou ran a hand through his hair and sighed in frustration. "Don't get me wrong, I don't hate being a King or anything like that. I don't hate having the power to fight or the responsibilities or anything like that y'know? I mean since becoming a Campione I've made good friends and seen awesome things, so I don't regret becoming one or anything. The thing is I don't like picking fights or ordering people around, I'm pretty happy with my life the way it is without all that.

"I'll fight if I need to, don't think I won't. I've got these powers, even if they do tend to be more trouble than they're worth, and I'll keep to the duties that come with them. It's just that if I could have a nice normal life with all the friends and comrades I've gained since becoming a King then I wouldn't mind it at all. It's like I said to Nee-san, apart from my ability to fight gods I consider myself an ordinary person."

There was another silence around the table as the other Kings digested this confession.

"I hear your words my little brother and I can understand them to a degree. I can see where one of commendable humbleness might prefer to remain in more modest circumstances despite being a King, but despite your words I do not believe you to be such a one, King Godou."

The words of the Chinese Campione broke into that silence. Her tone was neither aggressive nor disappointed as Shirou would have expected her to be after learning that her newly adopted sibling had such mundane wishes. Instead she sounded . . . earnest.

"When we crossed blows in battle it was the most magnificent fight that I have enjoyed in more than a century, even my battle with the Divine Marshall Zhu Ganglie did not compare. During our match you displayed determination and tenacity enough to make the finest master of wushu proud. However underneath there was more than that.

"My dear brother I do not believe that you knew it and I know that you did not show it, but beneath the effort and inspiration that you showed in our battle there was genuine exhilaration. Just as with the times that you battled with the Great Sage, did you not feel the blood sing in your veins? Did you not take joy in your victories over your foe?"

"Well . . . yeah, I guess you're right there." Godou agreed as he smiled in a slightly weary way, "It's kind of weird. Having to deal with Heretic Gods and supernatural stuff is really troublesome, enough so that if I didn't have to do so again I'd be pretty happy. Still once things come to a head and we've got to fight I always find it really exciting. Heh, guess that makes me something of a hypocrite huh?"

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Shirou commented, "I can see the appeal of a life without the complications of the supernatural. Still, can you honestly say that you would be satisfied with such a life after having been the hero that has saved so many from the whims of a careless deity?

"I've heard it said that the vast majority of the mundane people go through their lives without doing anything more significant than disturbing the earth that needs to be moved in order to bury them. Personally I don't agree with that, but it's true that there aren't that many that truly leave an impression upon the world. Tell me do you really think it is so troublesome a fate to be one of those that can make a true and lasting impact upon this life?"

"Well, I never claimed to have it all figured out," Godou said as he folded his arms on the table before him, "I'm still working things out in my head, and I still haven't got things straight yet. But you did ask me what I wanted with my Authorities, and that's what I want; a pleasant life."

"And that is a fine wish to have," Declared John Pluto Smith as he leaned forwards in his chair, "I've heard of Kings in the past that have taken their power and drowned themselves in greed and gluttony with the authority they have gained. If your own wishes are more modest then there is no shame in them! Far from it you should take pride in the fact that your dreams are those of a humble man untainted by the mania I so often see in those that have attained some sliver of power."

"And what of your Kingship then Godou? How will you deal with that?"

The eighth Campione's question gave his fellow Japanese King a brief pause, but the answer came fairly quickly.

"I'm not the kind of guy that's interested in being a King and reigning over a kingdom. If there's danger then I'll fight it, and if I see something that needs doing or changing then I'll use my authority to get people to do something about it if I think I should. But I don't want to spend my days telling people what to do or anything like that."

"So rather than ruling your subjects you're content instead to let them handle themselves just so long as they do listen to you when you have something to say?"

At Godou's answering nod Shirou tilted his head slightly.

"An interesting approach, to retain your power and duties, but not to exercise that same power without cause and leaving your subjects to rule themselves instead. Sort of the opposite of a tyranny when you think about it."

He gave his head a shake as though to clear it.

"Ah well, I can think of a number of worse ways for a King to rule. So what are your plans for after this Feast? Has there been any change to your plans for the future due to your experiences here?"

"Well I've certainly got more to think about now, but I don't really have any plans. Once I've had some time to think it over I'll probably talk it over with my . . . friends."

"Ah, so you're the kind of fellow that will recognize his weaknesses and won't hesitate to seek the council of those you trust who can cover that weakness?"

Smith's observation caught Shirou slightly by surprise. That did kind of describe the way Godou had managed to surround himself with girls of remarkable talent and ability. Certainly he knew that the seventh Campione wasn't the kind of man to do such deliberately, but it seemed that his luck had managed it for him. Still, intentional or not Godou could hold claim to the position of the King with the most formidable support base. To the red haired teen's knowledge none of the others had so many high level allies, not even himself. In a way those same allies could be regarded as Godou's principle strength after his Authorities.

"Then I suppose we could say that what you seek is peace and that your Kingship could be described as that of the Commoner King?"

"The Commoner King?" enquired Luo Hao.

"A King that does not rule from a throne over the masses, but instead lives among them and only takes his throne in times of great need." Shirou explained recalling some of the types of mythological Kings that he'd read about in both mythology and modern entertainment. Such stories had taken on a new significance to him since the Holy Grail War and had become something of a minor hobby in his spare time.

"Ah, a suitable description for my sworn brother."

"So then what of you King Shirou?" asked Smith as he sat up a bit straighter in his chair, "It is now our turn to ask you; what is it that you wish to attain with the power of a Campione?"

The eighth Devil King paused for a moment as he tried to order his thoughts. The simplest answer to that was that he wanted to return to Sakura. He wanted to go back to his home dimension and make sure that Rin, Rider, Taiga and her were all alright.

After that . . . he honestly didn't know. He supposed it would depend on how he managed to get there. If it was just a one way trip then he'd just have to deal with it. However if the method he used would allow him to return . . . well, that gave rise to all sorts of possibilities.

Still, those were thoughts for another day, thoughts he could hardly speak of here. Granted he was no longer afraid that if he revealed the true origins of himself and Illya that the various magic agencies would be eager to dissect them for the knowledge that their bodies might yield. As a Campione he could ensure that any who tried something like that would regret it for the brief amount of time that would comprise the rest of their lives.

Even so that was information he didn't want to yield any time soon. However these Kings had come to attend his Feast and they had answered his questions honestly and fully as far as he could tell. He owed them something genuine in reply.

"I want to protect those that I care for."

The others seated at the table looked at him with mild surprise on their faces. Idly he wondered what they'd been expecting him to say, something grander? Something more ambitious?

"I know it sounds simple, but like most things that are simple it's really pretty complicated when you look at it a bit more thoroughly," he elaborated, "I . . . I failed someone I cared a while ago. She was one of my best friends for years, someone I saw practically every day, someone I talked to, someone spent time with. And in all that time I never really knew, never guessed, that she was being . . . abused by her family.

"This was before I became a Campione, before I got a proper handle on my magic or was reunited with my adopted sister. Back then I wanted to be a hero, an ally of justice that saved everyone. I know it was a rather juvenile dream, there was nothing wrong with it though and I . . . I believed in it. I wanted to save someone, anyone really, because I thought it was the right thing to do."

Shirou glanced down at his hands and saw that they were clenched into fists so tight that the knuckles were turning white.

"I carelessly went through my life preparing to save whomever I could. I even told my friends about it, told her of my dream, all that time I helped anyone who asked and I couldn't notice her right by my side and being . . . violated every day. Looking back on it it's like a sick joke."

Silence reigned as they all waited for him to continue.

"Things got . . . messy around the time I first met Illya. Lots of peoples agendas all came to a head at once and my friend ended up getting caught up in it in the worst way possible. In the end I was faced with the choice of saving her and risking the lives of untold many or killing her and guaranteeing the safety of the unknown masses."

He looked up at them and he knew there was not a drop of shame or doubt on his face.

"I chose to protect those I cared for; to throw away the ideal that I'd lived by for as long as I could remember.

"Since then I've lived by that promise, that I won't let those I want to protect get hurt. When gods tried to threaten them I killed them and became a King. And since becoming a Campione I've tried to gather the means by which to better achieve that protection."

He gave a slight smile to the rest of those seated at the table.

"Of course that doesn't mean that I would shirk the chance to save another, I still believe that there's nothing wrong with the desire to save another, I simply have something of a prioritization these days. As I said to sempai when we were imprisoned, I believe in doing right by those that I have power over. It's a duty, an obligation, which I take seriously."

"A commendable attitude to maintain King Shirou," commented Smith, "And indeed there is nothing wrong with wanting to protect those that one has ties to. Of course it is never wrong to wish to save other lives, the ability to reach out a hand to aid those we do not know is one of the cornerstones upon which civilization is built. However to place the countless unknown above those whom you know, whom you speak to, whom you have ties with . . . well, that is the province of saints or monsters."

The words were meant as support, but instead they struck at the eighth Campione's core. He knew that he had come dangerously close to having followed the same road as Kiritsugu, to weigh all lives upon a scale and take whatever action was needed in order to save the most possible. That was the path that his father had taken, and it had been a path that had very nearly broken him. Archer was an Emiya Shirou that had thrown himself into saving all that he could, one who had sacrificed everything in the pursuit of that goal, friends, lovers, comrades, even his very self, in the end all had been cast aside. At the end of that path there had only been a sort of damnation waiting for him.

He knew damned well how close he had come to crossing that line, to becoming something that would have made Kiritsugu and Archer seem pale by comparison. He knew how close he'd come to trading his heart for a mind of Steel. All it would have taken would have been one decision made differently; one life found wanting when measured against those of others.

The thought that he might have himself have been the one to kill Sakura if he'd made another choice . . . it made him shudder.

Still he couldn't let that show on his face here. Now wasn't the time to succumb to introspection.

"My thanks for your words." He said as he nodded to the masked King.

"So then King Shirou, would I be correct in saying that you'd describe your rule as being one of Protection? You will protect those that you care for, but will also act as guardian to those that need you even when you know them not?"

The question came from Luo Hao as she directed a gaze both curious and regal at the young man with whom she had spent more than a day in captivity with.

In response Shirou nodded. He supposed that was a fairly good way of describing his methods. He built up his power base slowly and carefully, but it was all for the purpose of protecting Illya foremost and those in his service afterwards. He supposed he ranked his own life in there somewhere, but he still had a bit of trouble valuing it against others.

"So then we can say that your desire is the safety of your loved ones and that your kingship is that of the Protector. Most intriguing."

The comment of John Pluto Smith was spoken in good humour, but carried a weight to it none the less. That assessment, that judgement, would be the way in which Shirou knew that he'd be defined from now on in the eyes of his fellow Kings.

"And so this brings us to our final member fellow guest," the American Campione continued as he turned his head to look at Guinevere, "You have been silent up until now, could you tell us why?"


-()-


Guinevere's heart was pounding in her chest as the moment that she'd been both dreading and eagerly anticipating had arrived. She had remained silent as the others at the table had questioned one another, even though she had been paying close attention to what each and every one of them had said she had done nothing to draw attention to herself.

Instead she had waited, waited until their attention would fall on her and it would be time to defend her beloved king's rule.

And now . . . now was that moment.

"Though Guinevere is most privileged to be at this table with you all I know that this is a discussion for Kings. As such it isn't the place for a mere handmaiden to raise her voice in question to you all. I am here to represent and defend the kingship of Artus in my lord's absence, that is all."

It was true. Though she might not obey their demands, indeed even though a Campione could be considered her mortal enemy, the Witch Queen did acknowledge that the Devil Kings were beings of higher rank than a fallen goddess like herself. When she'd said that she didn't consider it her place to speak up at this meeting of God Slayers she'd been speaking honestly.

Of course that didn't change the fact that if any of those at this table became obstacles in her path to revive Artus then she'd not hesitate in becoming their enemy.

"Very well then Lady Guinevere, please answer us in your king's place, what was it that he wished for with his power?"

Well maybe she wouldn't be too eager to become sir Shirou's enemy, especially when he looked at her with those deep golden eyes that were so warm and-

Aaaargh, she was doing it again. She thought she'd managed to get her blasted feelings under control, why was she sent into such confusion just by him looking at her? No, she had to take hold of herself. She was here to represent her King; she must not bring dishonour upon his name.

"Artus is the King of the End, the King that appears when the world is ending. What my most beloved lord desires is the peace of that end."

There was another moment of quiet as the assembled Campione looked at her, then King Kusanagi Godou, somewhat surprisingly, spoke first.

"When you say that he's the King of the End do you mean that he appears when the world is ending or that his appearing causes the world to end?"

"Either, neither, both, who can say?" Guinevere kept her answer deliberately vague. She was aware that in order to defend the Kingship of Artus she would need to reveal some things about him and his past. However despite that she was also determined to keep as many secrets of his as she could. It was a fine line to walk, but she was determined to do it.

"What did you mean by the peace of the end?"

This time the question came from sir Shirou. Clamping down on the urge to melt at his smooth voice she instead answered his question.

"My lord King always appears in the times when chaos and strife are at their peak. When he appeared he would bring about peace by subduing or exterminating all troublemakers before him."

"And Artus is Arthur Pendragon, the once and future King of Britain?"

There was something in the red haired Campione's tone as he asked that which caught at the Witch Queen's notice. To him the answer was of importance on a personal level, not merely some idle curiosity. There was definitely some sort of connection here; she just had to work out what it was.

"Artus did appear in Briton more than fourteen centuries ago," she said as she settled herself a bit more comfortably into her seat, "He quelled the turmoil of that time and brought about peace to the land consequently the people of that era came to worship him and many gods and goddesses came to serve under his banner.

"Years later my King was gravely wounded after fighting the traitor knight Mordred and descended back into the earth in order to regain his strength. Guinevere's previous self, her mother, sacrificed her divinity in order to create the Holy Grail and reincarnated as a Divine Ancestor.

"That Guinevere then popularized the legend of King Arthur and his knights as part of a plan to re-energize and revive my King. However I was murdered and sent into the cycle of reincarnation. By the time Guinevere reincarnated once more those legends had spawned their own new god, a young deity of war and justice named Arthur Pendragon."

"Ah, so then your own lord could be regarded as the prototype, the origin, of the now famous Arthurian mythology?"

John Pluto Smith's question was one that she'd been expecting.

"Indeed, Guinevere is responsible for the more modern tales, but Artus is the origin of Arthur."

"So you have spent the last millennia and a half attempting to revive your master? Such dedication is both shocking and commendable." Luo Hao commented as she once more tapped her fan against her chin, "Though that you have needed to try for so long does not speak well of your king."

That made the Queen of the Divine Ancestors fairly bristle in anger. How dare she? How dare this woman speak so of her beloved Artus?

"The King of the End has not been slumbering all this time; Guinevere has simply been most unfortunate in that I was trapped in the cycle of reincarnation during the times when he revived. His efforts have shaped the course of nations, indeed this very land that we stand upon was saved by him."

"Huh? This King of the End saved Japan?"

The startled words of King Kusanagi brought a tiny smile to the blonde Divine Ancestor's lips. It was somewhat satisfying to surprise someone with information about their own home that they had never known.

"Yes, several centuries ago a number of strong Heretic Gods were running wild upon this land in the far east. Your country had no God Slayer to protect it and they left much wreckage and ruin in their wake, so much so that the Mages and Shaman of this land couldn't hope to cope. Eventually some of the gods fell into combat with each other and before long it seemed that the entire country would fall.

"That was when Artus came to your land King Kusanagi, drawn by the chaos and confusion. He battled the gods, some he slew, others, those strong enough to survive him; he drove into the astral realm instead. In the end he saved your land but exhausted himself once more. That is part of what I am doing here, in this country so far from my homeland, I am seeking the place where my beloved Artus is resting."

"This King of yours sounds as though he would be a fine foe to battle," Lou Cuilian commented as she leaned back into her chair, "Should you succeed in his revival then let him know that this Luo Hao would be more than pleased to challenge him to battle so that she might exterminate him."

The words were not delivered with aggression or hostility. They were the words of one that was, as far as they were concerned, speaking of things as blatantly true as the fact that the sky was blue or that water was wet. The Chinese Campione simply felt that it was utterly natural for her to challenge a powerful new god that had manifested himself.

However rather than leap to her Kings defence as the other Campione had probably been expecting her to do Guinevere instead simply smiled knowingly.

"Are you certain of that your Eminence? Here in Japan the foes that my dear master faced were other gods, but the enemies he exterminated in order to establish his reign over Briton were different."

"What do you mean?" sir Shirou asked, his voice intrigued.

"All those centuries ago the threat that was bringing about the end of the world wasn't a Heretic God; it was the large number of wild Devil Kings at the time."

She amused there for a moment, letting the shock of what she had just said pass through them. What she was about to tell them wasn't a secret, others such as her former associate Lucretia Zola were aware of this. It wasn't something that she needed to keep secret unless she wanted to, and at this moment she wanted to impress these four before her with the strength of her King.

"You should not be so eager to rush to your doom your Eminence," she cautioned the Ruler of the Martial Realm, "Artus was given a title than none may usurp or equal because there were none in the world, god or Campione, who could match him. He is the Strongest Steel."

"Artus has fought Campione before?" Godou asked in curiosity.

Guinevere looked at him and was reminded of how young he really was, that he'd not yet been a King for even half a year. She could tell that he was surprisingly mature for such a young man in this age where a long childhood was a luxury open to many, but it seemed that though he was aware of realities in his head his heart had still yet to accept them. The thought that there was a god that had defeated Campione had surprised him, this showed he still possessed the naive view that Campione, and so himself by extension, would always triumph over gods. The thought that inevitably the Kings of the world died at the hands of either gods or their fellow Kings was something he probably knew intellectually, but had not yet fully grasped.

Interestingly sir Shirou had shown no such surprise, but that was not unexpected. King Kusanagi was a warrior who had grown up in a place of peace, never having cause to awaken his combative and aggressive hidden nature. Sir Shirou was a different kind of animal altogether, he had been well aware of battle and death before he became a Campione, of that the Witch Queen was absolutely sure. His ability to maintain his focus and composure in the face of Mordred's overwhelming power had spoken of a past stained with blood and a familiarity with facing foes stronger than himself.

Shelving such thoughts for later consideration Guinevere nodded towards the seventh King.

"Indeed, the crisis that drew him to this land was the rampage of Heretic Gods, but in ancient Briton the holocaust that brought about the end of the world was not the work of deities, but of God Slayers."

She paused for an instant to see how her announcement had caught her listeners. Luo Hao was displaying her usual calm regality, but there was a definite hint of excitement in her eyes at the knowledge that such a strong foe existed. John Pluto Smith remained largely inscrutable behind his mask, though the way in which he was cocking his head slightly hinted at some curiosity. Kusanagi Godou was frowning slightly, apparently somewhat displeased by the thought of Kings like himself being the source of such ruin. Sir Shirou was . . . calm, his face betraying none of his thoughts as he watched her and waited for the Witch of Camelot to continue her explanation.

"In that time an unusual number of reckless God Slayers had manifested in Europe and were causing great unrest. One of them claimed Briton as his own and turned it into a hopeless place of strife and terror. It was this ending of an era that drew my King and led him to battle and exterminate the mad child of Pandora that had caused such suffering. For this deed the people of Briton came to worship him as both King and God, and many deities were drawn to him by his divine presence, by the aura of power and majesty he possessed.

"However his victory also drew the attention of the other Kings that ran wild in the neighbouring lands at the time. Both fearing and coveting his power they all made their way to his new kingdom one by one and challenged him."

Again she paused, allowing the tension to build.

"By the time the battles were over Artus had slain five Kings, more than any other deity of Steel in history. That is why the title of Strongest Steel is his."

As she said this Guinevere paid close but subtle attention to how sir Shirou reacted to her declaration. After all he had laid claim to the title of the Strongest Steel during his battle with Mordred. Had he simply been ignorant of the title's true significance and been using it to try to provoke the traitor knight? Or had he been aware of the true owner to whom it had belonged and made the claim as a challenge to him? One of the main reasons she'd taken the risk of coming to this Feast had been to try to learn more about him, and whatever his reaction might be it may answer at least some of her questions.

Nothing.

His expression didn't alter, his body didn't move, his presence didn't even twitch. For all the reaction he exhibited he might as well have been a statue.

"So then, it would be accurate to say that your King's desire was for peace and that his Kingship was Strength?"

Sir Shirou's question broke into her thoughts and brought her once more back to the present.

"Ah, yes. Yes, that would be accurate."

"Then we have reached the end of our contest," the host of the Feast declared. "So then the desires that we have are challenge, impossible justice, the safety of loved ones and the desire for peace shared by both a god and a Campione. The kingships that we have declared are Martial supremacy, the hero king, the commoner king, the rule of protection and the rule of strength."

He paused for a moment as he drained the last of his wine from the glass before him.

"I do not know about any of you but I'm declaring this contest a victory for all. I have not heard of a single desire I find unworthy nor of a kingship to which I object. I have explained and defended my own rule to you all, and none have spoken out against it, nor have any of you spoken out against each other. Therefore I declare this contest a draw through mutual victory . . . is there any here who would challenge my pronouncement as the host of this Feast?"

"Splendidly said King Shirou," declared Luo Hao as she snapped her fan open and then closed once more. "A fine judgement upon the outcome of our contest, this Luo Cuilian will abide by your verdict and carry my victory with pride."

"Agreed," Smith spoke up while nodding in an exaggerated manner, "I confess that when you told me that the curtain may not yet have fallen upon our adventure in this country I was somewhat sceptical, but you have happily proven me wrong. I shall take my victory here and wear it as a badge of honour."

"Yeah, tonight has been . . . interesting." Kusanagi Godou agreed, "Definitely interesting. I've go no problems with taking my own victory from here the same as everyone else."

With a pleased smile on his face the red haired God Slayer turned to face Guinevere.

"I believe that congratulations are due to you as well my lady. Alone and before an unprecedented assembly of those who should be your traditional enemy you have successfully defended the rule of your King and added another victory to his name. This Artus is privileged to possess so loyal and fine a vassal as yourself."

The Witch Queen could literally feel her face start to redden as his compliment made its way through her thoughts. He thought she was loyal and fine vassal, deep inside her there was a part of her that was squealing in both embarrassment and delight.

As Guinevere did her best to once more regain her composure sir Shirou stood up.

"In that case there is simply one more part of the contest left, then we move to our final enjoyment of the food before I see to my duties as a host and call this night to an end." A sudden smile crossed his features as he chuckled slightly, "I'm honestly surprised things have gone so smoothly, I'd have thought a meeting such as this would be a magnet for trouble."

"Oh? What do you mean by that Shirou?" Smith enquired as he stood up as well.

"Well the gathering I based our Feast upon was attacked by assassins, so I was expecting something like that to-"

His words were suddenly cut off as his eyes went wide. Guinevere didn't have to even wonder what it was that had caused this, she could feel it too. It was as though the air had suddenly grown colder, heavier, the very light of the torches that burned about them seemed to become muted and wan. In a single instant she was out of her chair and spinning around to try to find the source of the malignant aura that had settled over the area.

About her, at the edge at the light, the shadows moved independently of the flickering flames.


-()-


Okay, he knew that he was a Slayer of Gods and as such probably not in the good books of those forces that ran the universe, but wasn't this just a bit too much?

Shirou's hand grasped the hilt of Aži Qubla as it materialized. All about him the shadows seemed to be disgorging black figures with skulls for faces, in a way it was an eerie repeat of Assassin attacking the assembled Servants at Rider's Feast of Kings.

However for all the similarity there were differences. Assassin had been a human, granted he was a human that had fractured his mind in order to gain skills that no normal human could possess, but even as a Servant he/she/it had retained the basic qualities of a human. These . . . things that now surrounded him and his guests were not human, of that he was absolutely sure. The memories he'd gained from Archer had given him numerous examples of beings that might have human form, but no human essence, and these creatures would have fitted in with them quite snugly.

They didn't move as humans would for example. No crowd of men, not matter how well trained, could possibly have acted in such absolute harmony. The way they reacted to one another's shifts and movements was . . . uncanny. It was more like watching a school of fish than a group of humans, but no fish had ever managed such perfect coordination between those in the school.

Also there were the weapons that they held, or at least seemed to. The black blades were immediately 'read' by Unlimited Blade Works, but rather than being stored in his Reality Marble the long daggers were instead rejected. However even though they weren't recorded they had been analyzed, enough that he knew why his inner world hadn't duplicated them. Rather than being weapons they were instead a part of those that held them, a portion of their flesh that had hardened and taken on the form and function of a blade.

What was even more telling was that they had somehow managed to completely slip through all the wards and Bounded Fields that he and Illya had been able to set up around the manor. Even now when they had willingly revealed themselves they had only tripped the defences enough to be registered, not to activate any of the defences.

"Illya?"

He asked her name as a question; wanting her opinion on what it was he and the other Campione had to deal with. His adopted sister had been with the others who had accompanied the Kings and had been seated a respectful distance away during the competition, but she had gotten up to join him when the contest was declared ended.

"They've got some ability like Presence Concealment," she called to him, "It's not on a level with a Servant, but it's enough that the majority of the Bounded Fields can't catch on to them. It's like their bodies are drinking in the ambient mana to keep the fields from noticing them while at the same time not tripping the fields that should detect that drain."

Assassins then? Well that was just wonderful, fate apparently really was doing its best to make his life difficult. Still these creatures didn't feel like gods or Divine Beasts, their pressure of presence was pervasive but not strong.

"Interesting, while I must commend these fellows on their skill in approaching so close to me undetected I cannot forgive them for so shamelessly interrupting a meeting between Kings."

Luo Hao was on her feet and stood facing the assembled mass of shadowy figures without a trace of fear or apprehension in her bearing. Her fan was now tucked into her belt and her arms hung by her sides in a posture that appeared casual but which could easily slip into a martial arts stance.

"Indeed," agreed Smith as he casually leaned on the chair he'd been sitting on a moment before. "Perhaps they heard of the same feast as you did King Shirou and thought that the night wouldn't be complete without an attack by a hoard of assassins."

"Er, does anyone know who these guys are?"

In contrast to the almost relaxed manner of the other two Kings Godou was visibly nervous. Not afraid or fearful, just cautious really, a sensible enough response.

"Well, they've shown up to my Feast so I think it only appropriate to welcome them." Shirou declared before stepping past his guests and addressing the mass of skull faced shadows before him. A crazy but amusing thought had just occurred to him. If fate was so determined to apparently force a recreation of the meeting of Kings that the Rider of the fourth war for the Holy Grail had called then who was he to stand in its way. Besides it would be interesting.

"New guests? King Shirou, do you actually intend to invite these loutish interlopers to share your hospitality?"

Luo Hao sounded . . . perturbed by the idea to say the least. He imagined that her own approach to such gatecrashers at an event where she was the host would have been to summarily annihilate them all with all due haste. He also noticed that she was also sending glances back to the pavilion where the remaining food was still waiting. Could it be that she also didn't relish the idea of sharing it with any more than strictly necessary?

"Of course, the king's words should be heard by everyone, so if someone shows up to hear, it doesn't matter if they're friend or foe."

It was odd just how easily the words of that Servant he had never seen but none the less admired were spoken by his own lips. While Saber would forever remain as his true Servant he occasionally couldn't help but wonder how he might have fared had the King of Conquerors been his partner.

Turning round he picked up the mostly empty bottle of delicious wine that had been served to them all and waved it towards the mass of shadowy figures.

"Here, don't be shy – if you want to drink with me there are cups over there. This wine is as your blood."

He idly wondered just how long he could follow the 'script' as it were. One thing he was absolutely certain of was that if one of them sent a dagger at this bottle then he'd be damned if he let them spill the last of it all over the floor, this was damned good wine after all. Come to think of it, maybe he had drunk a tad too much if he was following through with this absurd idea.

The answer that he received didn't come in a verbal form, but instead in about ten of the shadows suddenly rushing forwards.

They were fast, he had to give them that, but when compared to the terrifying speeds of Berserker, Rider or Mordred they weren't anything too impressive. He calmly set the bottle back on the table then Aži Qubla flashed in his hand, the whip-like blade lashing out at speeds far faster than the attackers could manage. Poisoned metal bit into their black flesh, yet despite the Noble Phantasm's mystic properties the venom had no effect.

With a growl of frustration Shirou dropped the weapon, releasing it back into Prana motes as he did so and instead Traced Kanshou and Bakuya. As soon as the black figures drew close enough he lashed out with both swords, each directed at a different assailant. He normally wouldn't have used such lethal blows so casually, but these creatures were unquestionably inhuman and both his own experience and the memories of EMIYA assured him that one of the last things he wanted to do was hold back against unidentified non-human hostiles.

The black and white blades cut into the flesh of the beings, but it felt wrong, there was oddly little resistance, as though the flesh wasn't as solid as it should have been, and yet that same semi-liquid flesh clung to his weapon like thick honey bleeding force from their blows. Then, when the blade struck the bone, it was as though his swords had run into steel bars, the Noble Phantasms bit into the bone that resisted them but weren't able to sever it in a single blow. Still he didn't let the surprise overcome him, since he couldn't easily cut through these creature's skeletons with the blades he was using he instead pushed against it and used his swords as levers to throw the two attackers away from him.

As the false assassins fell tumbling away from him the eighth Campione frowned slightly. The twin Noble Phantasms that he had just Traced possessed a powerful anti-monster. Even if these were degraded versions, since he wasn't using Dragon Slaying Hero to reinforce and perfect them, they should have been perfectly suited for foes that felt so inhuman. Yet for some reason that ability didn't seem to be kicking in as it should. That would indicate that for all the strangeness of them these attackers were more human than monster.

No more time for contemplation now though, there were two more of these false assassins coming behind the ones that he'd just thrown back. However now time he had a bit of a better idea of what he was dealing with and prepared himself accordingly. Without uttering the spell words Dragon Slaying Hero awoke within him and its power flowed though his veins. The two swords were dropped and a new weapon selected and Traced.

SPLURNCCH!

As the huge stone axe-sword of Berserker crashed into them the two they made a muffled wet breaking sound. Both of them fell to the patios tiles, their frames bent in ways that were unnatural to their human shape.

He was distracted from those before him as those that had passed him were suddenly sent hurtling back.

"A fine blow little brother, but next time you must take care to use less brute force and more skill." The Ruler of the Martial Realm stepped forwards while idly taking out a silken handkerchief and wiping at the index finger of her right hand, "If skill is used then it is possible to defeat such scoundrels as these without the exertion of undue force."

She paused in her advance and glanced back at the seventh Campione.

"Fools such as these that would dare attack Kings with their paltry strength are undeserving of a fist; a fingertip is too generous for them."

In a move so smooth and precise that even a Servant would have been impressed she raised one arm up and extended the digit that she'd just cleaned to intercept another of these strange creatures that was attacking her by throwing itself at her with its arms spread wide to grab and stab. There was a single instant where the leaping assailant stopped in midair, frozen in place as the finger touched its forehead. Then, as though fired from a cannon, the black figure was sent flying back to the sound of bones breaking.

"Once you have attained the same lofty heights of skill as your honoured elder sister then even absorbing the entirety of the motion within a foe and redirecting it back into them will not be beyond you."

An explosion drew his attention away from the Chinese Campione and to the other side of the table. There John Pluto Smith stood with one arm extended in the direction of a further two assailants that had been blasted away even as their flesh smoked from the heat of the attack.

"Granted mortal spells aren't much good against such foes as Heretic Gods or Divine Beasts, but sometimes they come in useful to deal with the expendable minions, especially when backed by the power of a Campione's reserves."

The situation was quite clear, for all their numbers, stealth and inhumanity these strange invaders were utterly outmatched. Campione were Supreme Rulers because their power loomed over all who were beneath gods, and these beings were no deities.

So why were they attacking? Certainly they hadn't yet employed their full numbers and they might have some hidden abilities, but despite that the simple fact was that they faced utterly overwhelming odds. But if it was so obviously apparent then why did they continue this futile action?

It was hard to tell exactly how many of these things there were, their constant movement and their uniform appearance made it hard to keep enough of a track to count them, but he was sure there were at least a hundred. So far only ten had attacked, and of those ten only about half seemed to have been 'killed', the other five were struggling to their feet and healing at a visible rate.

"It would seem that these fellows are less than inclined to accept my offer." Shirou idly commented as the hoard of false assassins milled about in that oddly liquid manner.

"You were expecting any other response?" Smith asked as he stepped forwards to stand beside the feast's host.

"Not really, but if new people show up for my Feast then I should at least give them the chance to join before declaring them intruders and wiping them out."

There was a brief moment of silence as the black figures suddenly ceased their movements for an instant. All the white skull faces turned at once to regard the gathered Campione, a movement eerie in the way it was performed by all the attackers simultaneously. The next instant there was a rushing noise as more than two hundred black daggers were hurled en masse at the God Slayers.

Shirou didn't even bother to Trace a Noble Phantasm, those daggers might be accurate and fast, but they were still simply mortal weapons, easily dealt with.

Without even bothering to speak the words the eighth Campione used the power of the Authority that he'd gained from Hades.

The effect was immediate and dramatic. A huge half dome of gold and silver appeared before the Campione and intercepted the impact of every dagger. With an almost negligent gesture he returned the precious metals back to their origin and stared at the ranks of false assassins as the last of the daggers that had previously been imbedded in the shield clattered to the ground.

"Hmph, such impudence is utterly unforgivable!" Luo Cuilian declared as she stepped forwards, "Your generosity is wasted upon this rabble king Shirou. I had originally thought this to be a bold but futile attempt by one of our enemies to attack us; however these creatures are mere false beings. Our attacker sends toys rather than men to fight us, an insult in and of itself. This Luo Hao shall destroy them utterly as an example to those that would dare try this."

Shirou could practically feel the power beginning to build within the elder King, and he suddenly had a vision of her releasing her full power to annihilate these attackers and reducing his whole manor to a crater in the ground in the process, then standing over the wreckage and declaring it a fitting monument to her martial prowess.

With that thought in mind he reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder.

For an instant he felt as though the cold hand of death were suddenly wrapped around his heart. This was a level of dread comparable to what one might have expected to experience if they had just slapped Illya in front of a fully aware and fully powered Berserker.

"King Shirou," Luo Hao didn't turn to face him but even so he could tell that her expression was stern and disapproving, he could hear it in her voice, "You are most fortunate that I meditated to suppress my normal reflexes before attending tonight. Normally I instinctively twist the necks of those who touch me by surprise without my consent. Consider yourself fortunate and be sure to thank me correctly for my forbearance."

"Ah . . . my thanks sempai," it took a moment for Shirou to get his throat working again. Okay that might not have been quite as terrifying as facing a corrupted Saber or an enraged Gilgamesh, but damn it was close. "I was just going to say could you please leave the extermination of these constructs to me. As the host of this Feast and the owner of this home it is my privilege and duty to deal with these intruders."

For a moment she didn't respond and the eighth Campione became a bit concerned that she would be unwilling to bend on the issue. Quite honestly he wasn't sure what he'd do if that happened, given that if he tried to stop her by force it would only lead to a worse situation; probably try to use a Traced Noble Phantasm to limit the damage that would result.

His eyes were drawn to the attackers as he noticed something odd about their behaviour. Before they had been spread out in a curving crescent formation that had been centred on the gathering of Campione. Now, against common sense and good tactics, they were drawing together into a denser formation. That didn't make sense; it offered no benefits to them and simply made it easier for a single strike to hit more of them.

"Very well King Shirou, your claim upon this right and duty is both valid and just, I shall refrain from unleashing my martial splendour upon these luckless fools and leave their fate in your hands."

Phew, okay that was one less thing to worry about. Now he just had to deal with this multitude of fake assassins. The young Emiya guessed that his best option was to simply cut them down with a Traced rain of swords, granted he'd have to use a fair number of them to overcome these creatures' strange physiology and healing ability, but it was well within his limits. Alternatively he could call up one of the monsters he had sealed up in his manor and turn that loose on them. It would have the twin benefits of both feeding one of his creations so it would be stronger the next time he summoned it and being spectacular enough to no doubt leave an impression upon his fellow Kings.

He'd have to be careful whatever he did though, with them all pressed close together like that he could take them all with one attack if he was swift and careful. But if they scattered then it . . . would . . . be . . .

Oh boy.

Shirou gaped in a kind of fascinated horror as he realized what the small hoard of black figures were doing. The mass of skull faced attackers weren't in a group so they could press together, they were pressing into each other. Their black flesh was melting like wax and flowing into a single mass of black meat with starkly contrasting white bones on its surface before they were pulled back into it.

The flesh flowed, altered, and twisted, the formerly shapeless mass taking on structure and definition. And yet for all the order that its form gained the resulting creature was totally beyond anything that Shirou had seen in his life. The basic structure was vaguely that of a snake; however its black length was lined on each side with a row of black human arms extending from it like some sort of nightmare centipede. The thing had two 'arms' that were essentially huge blades in a structure similar to the claws of a mantis, the blades of those claws serrated like a huge saw. The head, which came at the end of a long sinuous neck, was a bizarre amalgamation of cobra and insect features. However the most disturbing thing was that the mandibles that lined its mouth were human arms ending in fully functional hands.

Quite simply the monstrosity that the false assassins had become was a monster not out of place in the nightmares of a madman.

"It would seem that our mysterious foe has some sense of the dramatic." Commented John Pluto Smith as he casually leaned back against the table.

"Perhaps, but whomever the fellow was that prepared this spectacle his artistic abilities are sadly most lacking." Luo Hao commented as she absently fanned herself.

Godou was simply alternating between staring at the monstrosity and staring at the two more experienced Campione. Shirou could sympathize to a degree, he might himself be familiar with the more fantastical aspects of the world but even so he was more than a bit awed by the sheer nonchalance with which the senior Kings were dealing with the appearance of such an unnatural creature.

With a shake of his head he dismissed the thought and turned back to face the black horror. For an instant he considered using Nine Lives Blade Works on, after all he had the appropriate weapon in his hand right now, but then he cast the idea aside. That was more suited to dealing with a human shaped target. He supposed that he could adapt it to be closer to the original Shooting Hundred Heads, but even that might not be appropriate to this foe.

From what he could tell this things flesh was fluid, malleable to a high degree. He wasn't entirely sure what effect that would have on a physical attack, but he didn't want to test it out. What he needed was a single large scale attack with which to annihilate it all in one go, not chance for it to survive.

Unfortunately his home was right behind the wretched thing, a fact that was serving to limit his options.

The axe-sword fell from his hands and dissolved back into its component Prana as Shirou instead formed another weapon in his hand. It wasn't anything of monumental power, merely another of the many nameless blades in his Reality Marble. It was a longsword that had been wielded in battle by some hero whose name had been lost, and though nameless it might be it was still an arm of power beyond the ken of most mortal men.

A physical attack was the best option since it would have a limited area of effect; however it would need to be a massive attack to bring this monster down quickly. For a brief instant he considered the physically largest sword in his Reality Marble, one that was only there because EMIYA had seen it during his encounters with Gilgamesh during his youth. Shirou was actually quite glad that he hadn't had to face the weapon himself, though not as terrifying as the incomprehensible Ea the enormous Mountain Felling Sword had a terror all of its own, hardly surprising considering it was a broadsword more than fifty metres in length.

The problem with using it was that while it could deliver a devastating blow unless he Traced more than one then a single one was all it would deliver since even with his Authorities the titanic sword was impossible to wield. The reason that made it impractical was that in terms of sheer Prana cost the Mountain Felling Sword was probably his second most expensive Noble Phantasm due to the sheer amount of material needed to form it and the strength of its power. As Archer EMIYA had never possessed large enough reserves of power to form it even though it was in his Unlimited Blade Works. Even with the reserves of a Campione Shirou didn't think he could Trace more than four copies without exhausting himself, the cost was that absurd.

No, what he needed was a large number of potent physical attacks in rapid succession. What he needed was . . .

"I am Steel, Steel that endures, Steel that triumphs, Steel that is invincible. My might is beyond any, my courage unshakeable, my mettle unequalled. I am the earth that has been refined into its ultimate form, I am Steel."

The words came to him without any thought or effort, just as they had the first time he'd ever used one of his Authorities. He was vaguely aware of the sword in his hand disappearing even though he hadn't dismissed t, but that was a distant and unimportant thought. Right now his senses were being consumed by two forces.

Fire and Steel.


-()-


Illya hadn't been the first to move forwards, and that was to her irritation.

The first to move forwards had been Erica, even as all the others, including Illya, had been frozen in place by the sheer sensation of wrongness that the black figures had radiated she had advanced.

That had irritated the young Einzbern more than she had expected. She was a veteran of the Holy Grail War, she had been the master of the single most terrifying Servant of the war, she had stood in the presence of the embodiment of all the evils of mankind, she'd run into that cave after Shirou even though at the time she'd been sure she was running to her death. Certainly these black creatures were discordant to her mystical senses, but that shouldn't have frozen her as it had. Why then was it that the blonde mage knight had been able to shake off her shock first? Was it because her feelings were stronger? Was it because she had more combat experience? Or could it be that Illya had allowed herself to become soft in these last few months?

Illya wasn't angry with Godou's 'first wife', rather she was irritated with herself.

Still, she took some pride in the fact that she had only been a second or two behind Erica, and a split second ahead of Liliana, the rest of Godou's harem and Lu Yinghua. Still all of them had come to a halt as soon as they had seen the Campione deal with the attacks upon them. It was a brief exchange, but one that demonstrated that for all the strangeness of their attackers the assembled Kings were in no danger. Even Kusanagi Godou, the least combat experienced of them, was able to send the one that attacked him flying with a superhuman punch.

Quite simply all of the companions of the Kings were in no way needed for this battle, the Campione had already won.

As she drew nearer she took the time to reach out with her magic and see what she could determine of these black invaders. What she felt from them was . . . strange. Whether by design or chance their abilities were just the right mix of qualities to allow them to slip through her security Bounded Fields without being noticed. Had they released hostile intent earlier than they had then they would have been detected. Had they come in slightly greater numbers then they would have been detected. Had they moved slightly faster in their infiltration then they would have been detected.

Whoever had prepared them for this assault must have studied her defences extensively to have equipped them so perfectly to succeed.

"Ah, so sir Shirou will take charge of disposing of these rude fellows that have accosted his guests."

Surprised the snowy haired girl glanced to the side to see that Guinevere was standing beside her.

"When did you . . . ?"

Illya cut herself off as she realized that in her startlement she was behaving most improperly for one of the hosts of this Feast. Sure Shirou might be the main host, but as the more trained and cultured of the two the Einzbern heir considered herself to be a co-host to the event. To allow herself to jump and so thoughtlessly blurt out a question, well, her old teachers in etiquette back in the Einzbern castle would have subjected her to both punishment and lectures for such a display.

It also didn't help that she'd done it in front of the Witch of Briton. Earlier their conversation had been cut short by her adopted brother calling the beginning of the Contest of Kingship, but even that short interaction had left her feeling a slight sense of competitiveness with this . . . this annoying person. Enough so that she didn't want to let her see any signs of weakness.

"It would have been most impolite of Guinevere to join the Kings in their repulsion of these attackers. Instead I have respectfully retreated to wait along with their followers until these fellows have been dealt with."

How on earth did the blonde Divine Ancestor manage to appear so calm and beautiful as she said that? It was as though her every perfect movement and gesture rubbed Illya up the wrong way, even though she couldn't have said for the life in her why that was.

A sudden surge of power that radiated from the Campione tore her attention away from the other young girl and back to the 'battle'.

There Shirou was standing while facing the huge monster that the small army of false assassins had merged into. Around him there was an aura of visible power, one that flickered like flames, but was strangely colourless.

"I am Steel, Steel that endures, Steel that triumphs, Steel that is invincible. My might is beyond any, my courage unshakeable, my mettle unequalled. I am the earth that has been refined into its ultimate form, I am Steel."

Beside her Illya heard a short gasp come from the Witch Queen beside her, but she paid it no attention.

Those were Sacred Spellwords, the keys to invoke the power of an Authority. But these were new ones, Illya knew almost all the Spellwords that her onii-chan used to activate his powers, but these were new. That meant . . . that they were for whatever power he'd gained from the god that he'd slain the day before.

She watched in awe as the aura grew larger and larger until it reached more than four times Shirou's height into the air. Then her eyes widened as the colourless flickering began to take on a vaguely human shape. Then her eyes widened further as she saw that her brother's own form was growing see through and indistinct even as the figure formed from the aura solidified. She knew that this was most likely an effect of the Authority, in her head she knew this, the problem was that knowing that didn't make her heart stop pounding as Shirou's form disappeared.

Then she took a good look at what had replaced him and a gasp of awe escaped her lips.

It was tall, tall enough that it would have towered even over her Berserker. Perhaps not as huge as the Divine apes that the Monkey King had sent after her and her allies, but despite being smaller it had a solidness, a presence that the divine animals had lacked. Though it was smaller it felt infinitely stronger.

Even though it was facing away from her the angle of its stance was such that the young Einzbern could get a good look at it in the flickering like of the torches. It was a huge armoured warrior of strong but slim build about eight metres tall. Its entire form was covered in plated armour of an elegant and elaborate design. A design that vaguely looked like . . .

As part of her research in preparation for the Heaven's Feel ritual she'd research as much of the previously summoned Servants as she could, and among them had been the unidentified Berserker from the War that her parents had fought in. Even though the Black Knight's Noble Phantasm had prevented her from learning his real name scrying and a talented artist had provided the Einzbern records with several excellently drawn pictures as well as a description of its abilities.

Now, as Illya stared up at the armoured colossus that had taken the place of her adopted brother, she could see some similarities between them. Certainly the general design was less jagged and cruel looking, but in terms of where the plates were and how they fitted together there were definite similarities. Of course there were differences, this armour looked slightly heavier, the chest plate was all of one piece and the pauldrons and gardbraces on the shoulders were slightly heavier, all of a piece and more pronounced. The gauntlets and arm armour were also thicker than the Berserker's had been, more suited to defend against heavy blows.

Additionally there were other differences, the principle one being the chain mail and plate arrangement that resembled the bottom part of Archer's armour crossed with Saber's armoured skirt. It came from under the plates that defended the hips and ran down to about the middle of the calves.

Of course the biggest difference was that instead of being blackened metal this huge armoured form was a combination of pristine white and polished steel grey. The majority of the plates were of a white similar to ivory, yet unquestionable metallic though it was strangely lacking in reflective qualities despite its smoothness. The chain mail, as well as the flexible metal material that made up the joints of the armour, were all the shiny grey of polished steel

In its left hand the huge figure had strapped an enormous circular shield easily large enough to defend its entire main torso. In its right hand it held a sword that must have been at least five metres long from tip to pommel. Both the arms must have weighed literal tonnes, but the steely titan held them as though that burden were utterly negligible.

The gigantic figure turned its head to look in her direction and she got her first good look at the helmet that it wore. The helm framed the face with protective sides that covered the ears, cheeks and sides of the jaw. The top of the helmet came down in a point like an eagle's beak to the bridge of the nose and ran back to divide into three short backwards facing crests that stylised the helm. The face under the helmet was covered by a featureless mask that covered the chin and all other facial features save for a slit through which could be seen the eyes of the giant.

Those eyes burned a bright molten gold.

"Illya . . ."

The voice was too deep, too reverberating and too metallic to be called human, and yet in spite of that the snow haired girl had no trouble recognizing it.

"Shirou?"

Her own voice sounded so . . . tiny by comparison, so weak and insubstantial. However even as she said the word she felt her heart begin to calm. She'd been right; this was just a new Authority. Her dear adopted brother was safe and he would return to her.

"A most impressive Authority," The comment from her other side almost caused to jump in surprise, but she was able to quash the impulse in time. Standing beside her was the masked form of John Pluto Smith, the fire light gleaming off his helm and his cape flapping dramatically in the light wind. "Though not as large as some of the beings I've seen deities turn into I can clearly sense the strength of that one. It would seem that your brother was able to gain a powerful Authority from his victory over Mordred Lady Einzbern."

Any further words were cut off by the sudden screech of metal on metal. Looking back Illya saw that the monster the attackers had become had lashed out with one of it's scythe-like claws at Shirou, however he'd been able to bring up his shield to block the cut and had deflected it in a shower of sparks.

In silence the young heir to the Einzbern family watched as her transformed brother swung his huge sword in retaliation.


-()-


Shirou knew that he had already won as soon as he blocked the monster's serrated claw with his shield. Though the explosion of sparks that resulted was impressive his own shield remained unscratched while the mantis-like claw blade of the merged creature was now cracked and broken.

The simple fact was that this was now a battle between utterly unequal foes. For all of its fearsome appearance the chimera creature before him simply lacked the strength and durability to be a serious threat to him in this form. He probably didn't even need to defend against it with his shield; his armour alone should be enough to break its blades.

Shirou could feel the strength of his new form instinctively; feel the raw physical power that he'd never experienced before.

He could also feel the lack of his magic. He couldn't push Prana through his limbs because the Circuits that normally carried it weren't there. Instead there was something else, a strange kind of flow that at once felt molten hot and comfortingly cool. This force wouldn't obey his will to Trace or form magic, yet he knew that it held great power in it.

Without further thought he swung his sword down at the black beast in a simple overhead chop. With his magic unavailable to him he couldn't sympathize with the weapon he held in order to gain any skills that might be written into it's past, but that was alright. He'd spent hours in practice with various warriors learning how to use weapons without borrowed knowledge, and among them had been the longsword and the broadsword. He knew how to wield one even without his magecraft to aid him.

The huge blade cut downwards and sheered through the claw-arm that was raised in defence as though it were made from straw before hewing into the creature's 'shoulder' and nearly splitting its torso in two.

Shirou drew the blade back and saw that the gaping wound was slowly sealing itself even as the monstrosity tried to lash out once more with its good blade. He easily brushed it aside with his blade and delivered another slash at the beast, this time nearly taking its head off.

From there the 'fight', if such it could have ever been called, became a simple slaughter. The black monster tried to fight back, but its attacks could not harm the armoured giant. It tried to defend by hardening its skin into thick plates, but they gave way beneath Shirou's blows like paper. It tried to retreat, to gain ground with which to manoeuvre, but a single swing of the huge sword tore the side of its tail so it could no longer move effectively. It tried to heal, but the blows came down again and again, as fast and devastating as lightning strikes, too fast to be repaired and too strong to endure.

For his part the eighth Campione had decided not to give the creature any quarter, not after seeing the many human skeletons floating in its semi-liquid flesh. Again and again his sword rose and fell hacking at the creature in a way that was less combat and more like a woodsman cutting at bracken. The blows slashed through the earth like the blows of a god and the air shrieked as the blade cut through it faster than such a piece of metal should ever have moved. Both heaven and earth felt the force of the giant's power and yet still it cut away like a man at his job.

Despite the odd savagery of the conflict it was soon over. The monster may have been fearsome, but the simple fact was that against a foe wielding the power of a god it was too far outmatched. Before too long the wounds that had been inflicted upon it grew too many, the flesh ceased trying to heal and instead began to fall apart into a sort of liquid tar. Here and there were the white of bones, but they disappeared as they seemed to dissolve into the black ooze which in turn was shrinking and disappearing.

For a moment Shirou just stood there, his form towering over his guests and his manor, the molten power of this Authority racing through his body. All Authorities had a feel to them, a certain character, and it had become his habit to liken these feelings to animals and impressions. Rule of the Underworld was a sleeping dragon that might grumble slightly when disturbed but would obey his will. The Hero's Bride by contrast was a male peacock that gladly displayed its brilliance to all while radiating its power like a small sun.

If he'd had to put into words what this Authority, Titan Knight, felt like he would describe it to be like riding a tame but eager metal bull filled with fire.

There was strength in this Authority, massive overwhelming strength the like of which none of his others save perhaps Curses without End could hope to match. The bull was brimming with strength, with an eagerness that was only barely contained, as though at any moment it would charge something just to test its own strength against that target. And there was more, more power that seethed within the form of the bull, pressure that was just begging to be released so it could run wild.

He could feel that pressure within him now, that desire to simply run wild with this power, to do anything he wanted. With this force, this strength, he could do anything, defeat anyone. Nobody could challenge him and nobody could stand against him.

With an effort Shirou pushed such thoughts away. The power of this Authority was . . . intoxicating. It would be so easy to let it carry him away into thoughts of invincibility, but he had to remain in control. He had to remain focused on the task at hand.

With a mental effort the young Emiya pushed the siren song of power to the back of his mind and knelt down on one knee and stared closely at where the monster had been. There the ground was torn up by his own blows as well as from the thrashing of the creature before it had died. Amid the gashes and trenches there wasn't a hint of the black substance that had made up the creatures body. Reaching out he stirred the loose earth with the tip of his sword, but his investigative probing yielded no hint of what had happened to the remains.

Damn it, he needed to get out of the armour. Its power might be so sweet but while he was in it he couldn't focus on such small details. He needed to have his magic back so he could use Structural Analysis on the whole area. He had to . . .

In response to his will the heat within him began to fade and he could feel the armour that covered him grow misty and insubstantial. There was a slight sensation of falling, then his shoe clad feet landed gently upon the ground as he resumed his human form once more.

"Most impressive King Shirou," Lou Cuilian congratulated as she stepped forwards to look upon the devastated area where that monster had once stood. "Your attacks may have been somewhat ungraceful and rough, but even this Luo Hao was impressed by the sheer strength that your Authority displayed. I do hope that in the future we shall have the chance to battle."

"Sempai," Shirou replied as he glanced back at her, "I hope you don't take offence, but I hope that that day is a long way off."

"Of course not," the Ruler of the Martial Realm said airily waving off any thought that she might be insulted. "Such a comment merely proves that you have sense and that I was wise in agreeing to accept you as an ally."

The red haired Campione nodded in understanding, then turned to look at his adopted sister as she came to stand next to him.

"Can you sense anything?" he asked as his own use of structural Analysis on the area revealed only broken stone, torn up soil and a few roots and worms.

"Nothing." Said Illya as she shook her head, "But I couldn't detect them earlier until they revealed themselves so one or two of them might have managed to get away, but the big one is definitely dead. After you dealt it enough damage it was like the magic holding the artificial cells together simply ran out and it came apart like a brick wall that had just lost all its mortar."

Shirou cast a glance back at the area where the hoard of black shadow creatures had been. Now that he was back to human dimensions he could see just how big the area was. Honestly it wouldn't have been that hard to build an entire house on the area that he'd torn up, and that was a house with a garden included. Still despite the size of the damage it was still fairly limited and hadn't come near to his manor. Tomorrow he might have to look into getting hold of some landscapers to return his lawn and garden to their former pristine state, but for now at least the main problem seemed to have been dealt with.

"Well, that was an unexpected bit of entertainment." John Pluto Smith was the first to comment as the host of the Feast turned back to his guests. "I wonder what the point of such an attack was, even against a single Campione such creatures would have been nothing but an inconvenience. To send them against four and expect anything other than a crushing rout is sheer folly."

"Indeed," agreed the Chinese God Slayer with a nod of her head, "I can only think that some presumptuous fool conducted this pointless attack in order to try to elevate his or her status in the eyes of others by being able to claim to have faced four Kings and having survived."

A look of disgusted disdain crossed her features.

"Such braggarts can rarely hold their tongues for long; they will begin to boast freely and will soon be found by those who will tell me. Rest assured this insult shall be addressed in the correct manner."

There was now a distinct edge to the beautiful martial artist's voice that told Shirou very clearly that anyone who had been foolish enough to have anything to do with this attack who then bragged about it would find their life become extremely . . . interesting in short order.

"So . . . now what?"

Godou's question sounded slightly lost as he stared between the jarringly clashing images of the neat pavilion filled with delicious food and drink and the torn up garden where the black monster had just been slaughtered.

"Well," the eighth Campione said, "I can think of three things that I intend for us to do before the evening is ended. The third is a surprise and the second is to once more indulge ourselves in the feast that has been prepared. However let us do the first thing now before we contestants of the competition of Kingship go our separate ways."

Damn, he had to admit he was getting pretty good at this whole talking like a King trick. Arturia, Gilgamesh, Iskander, thank you for your informal lessons in Kingship, they have been gratefully received.

"Oh? And what would that be sir Shirou?" Asked Guinevere as she also stepped forwards to step closer to the assembled Campione.

"A question that was once asked, a question that I would be eager to hear each of your answers to."

"And what question might that be?" there was a definite hint of curiosity in the voice of the American Campione as he leaned forwards slightly.

"Is the King lonesome?"

The four word sentence was spoken with a gravity, a solemnity, that was oddly out of place in the almost humorous atmosphere that had sprung up in the wake of the monster's death.

"Of course not," Luo Cuilian's answer came without hesitation or doubt. "A king has servants to serve them, disciples to respect them, enemies to face them and allies to aid them. The only King to be lonely is one who is so by design or is so by incompetence."

"Yeah," Godou declared with a surprising amount of force in his tone. "The King always has those that believe in the King, even when the King isn't too sure himself, those that will give their loyalty and loan him their strength."

Only a blind man could have missed the way the black haired teenager's eye flicked towards his female companions as he spoke his words.

"Quite correct," agreed Smith, "Even a King such as myself who keeps their identity secret has those that I can trust and confide in."

Shirou let a pleased smile break across his face.

"Exactly right, splendid answers. After all what's the point of standing at the top of the world if when you get there you just find yourself all alone?"

With a wave of his arm the young Emiya gestured towards the pavilion.

"We've competed, we've battled and we've answered; now let's eat, drink and be merry."

Though the contest of Kingship and the attack of the false assassins had only lasted a short time Shirou found that the activity had been enough to rekindle his appetite. Well, that was fine with him, it meant that he'd have enough room to try the spaghetti that sempai seemed to have enjoyed so much.


-()-


The mage sat on a bench in the garden and stared into the shadows.

"So many gone, gone gone gone, all gone. He cut them, cut them with his sword, cut them down, cut them away. Now they're gone and I can't feel them any more."

His mutterings fell into the uncaring night and above him the lamp that illuminated the part of the park he sat in flickered.

"They slipped in oh so quietly. Oh my lovely little thieves, I didn't know that they were just right to sneak up on the Kings palace. Didn't think they could get through his traps so easily. Oh my thieves, you were even better than I expected you to be. Can't to it again though, the chance is gone, lost, vanished. The King will see the hole and close it up, fill it, bury it. Bury it deep down, covered in dirt, crushed, sealed up. Can't use it again."

For a moment the dirty and line face behind the matted and greasy hair contorted into a wild mix of emotions.

"My poor pretty thieves, you all went and tried to steal from the Kings, but don't you know that the King cuts down all who try to take from him? Kings don't let you take from them; they're the ones that take. Take and take and take and take. Take until there's nothing left, until you're hollow and empty and there's no way to make it right."

To his right the shadows rippled and two black figures emerged, figures with while skulls for faces. There were no words spoken, they each held out their ands and showed the orbs that were grafted to the palms of their hands. It was oddly disturbing to look at, as though fireflies had landed on their palms and the skin had grown over them yet somehow kept the insects alive and bright despite their fleshy entombment.

"They cut you down, cut down so many of you. Cut and cut and cut and cut and cut. But you cut too, just a tiny little cut when they killed you. A cut so small that they'll never even notice it. But it was a cut and now we have a cut. Cut cut cut cut cutting. A cutting a cutting a cutting from a plant. We'll nurture it, all of them, let them grow big and strong.

"Oh, and we'll have to grow more of you. Oh look at you, so small now when before you were so big, so many. Well don't you worry about it. We'll find you some more trash to recycle and then we'll find a nice quiet place for those little cuttings to grow."

The mad man suddenly stood up and began to capper to music only he could hear. His movements were jerky and uncoordinated, but they were wildly energetic and the smile on his face held a certain hysterical glee.

"My pretty little thief has made his first theft. Oh, it's a small one but the Kings don't even know it yet. We've taken a tiny tone from their thunder, their loud and horrible thunder. It's only a note, only a shard, but we took it. Took took took took took it. It's ours now and we'll make it bigger, make it louder, make it yours."

His eyes turned to focus upon the remaining survivors of the assault upon the gathering of the Campione. His eyes held a mixture of love, greed, sorrow, joy and rage that could in no way be described as sane. It was an incoherent mess of emotions that chased each other within his heart with all the force of a trapped typhoon.

"It will be yours, and with them you'll be able to take more. You won't need to take in secret; you'll be able to take it from right in front of them. Take and take and take and take take take until there's nothing let to them. Take until the King has nothing. Until the King is a pauper, a joke, a hollow shell. Take and take and take until they're finally quiet, until there's no more thunder.

"Then . . . then maybe I'll be able to hear her last words."

The final sentence was spoken in a shockingly calm and rational voice. A voice low and quiet, a voice that held no manic energy or burning desire but simply pure heartbroken sorrow.

Alone in the dark with only the monster he had made for company a genius that was a madman found a brief moment of sanity in the simple act of weeping with grief.


-()-


The feast had gone on for another hour as the hosts and their guests indulged in all the wonderful food and drink that were available to them. Friendly conversations were struck up, opinions were exchanged and stories of the past retold. Nothing of any momentous importance, simple the pleasant chit chat that could be found at any friendly party.

However time passed and as was the way of things the evening drew to a close. Bellies were filled and thirsts were quenched, and even though there was still plenty of food left the feast began to wind down.

Shirou had a quick word with Kaida and then returned to his guests.

"Well, it looks like the evening has finally reached its end. I trust that I have served as a good host to you all?"

"King Shirou tonight has been a most pleasant and interesting evening indeed. I hope that if you ever find yourself in my own homeland that I may have the chance to share my own hospitality with you in gratitude." The Chinese Campione snapped her fan open and then closed again to add emphasis to her words.

"Indeed," agreed the masked King of Los Angeles as he raised a glass of Champaign in salute to his host, "You have left me truly glad that I took your advice about the curtain not having fallen King Shirou. Had I departed when I had intended to I would have missed this magnificent event. You have my heartiest thanks and my promise of my own hospitality, such as it is, should you ever find yourself in my homeland."

Godou was a bit off to the side and standing with his companions, but as the two elder Campione finished speaking he stepped forwards.

"I-I wasn't too sure about coming here tonight, but now I'm really glad I came. It's been interesting in ways I wasn't expecting and I think I've learnt a few things I wasn't too sure about both about myself and other Campione."

Shirou nodded in thanks to the words of his fellow Kings, then turned to the blonde Divine Ancestor.

"And you Lady Guinevere? Has my Feast treated you well?"

The beautiful child-like Witch Queen blushed as the attention of all fell upon her, but bore it with dignity and performed a curtsey to the assembled God Slayers.

"Guinevere would like to offer her thanks to the Kings that have graciously allowed her to defend the rule of her King in their contest. I would also like to thank sir Shirou for inviting me and being such a splendid host. In the future I hope that I shall be able to offer equal h-hospitality in return."

For some reason the former goddess was blushing bright red as she spoke the last sentence. Could it be that she was embarrassed by the thought of offering him hospitality in the future? Maybe her base of operations was very humble or a mess.

Oh well. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about that, instead it was time to move onto the grand finale of the Feast of Kings.

"Very well, if you will all accompany me back to my manor I think that it's time for my final surprise of the evening."

With an inviting gesture he invited his guests to follow him back into his home. As they began to follow his lead he allowed himself a small smile. Aside from the oddly ineffectual attack by those fake assassin creatures the evening had gone well, if he could pull this last part off then his guests would leave with a definite impression having been made on all of them.

Kaida and Manaka should have followed his instructions and brought the cart he'd told them to get to the right room. Unless they ran into some problems, then they might be a bit late, but that was hardly catastrophic.


-()-


Kaida pushed the trolley down the hall and was once more thankful that her friend was here to help her. There might not be much on the cart's flat table-like top, but the four long lengths wrapped in bolts of silk cloth were surprisingly heavy, enough so to make pushing them along a difficult task for a former shrine maiden who hadn't been too interested in physical activities.

Manaka on the other hand was not only an expert in combat magic, she was also familiar with a number of martial arts that she used to supplement her magic. She was a young lady in excellent shape and so was able to pick up the slack of her less physically inclined friend. Between the two of them they were doing fairly good time, the problem was that it was wretchedly difficult to steer the cart due to the long nature of the burdens upon it.

Still, despite those difficulties they managed to get the trolley to the large room that could serve as a banquet hall at a pinch. The pair of them had only just pushed the cart up against one of the walls and turned to face the door while standing beside it before it opened and Shirou entered with the rest of the attendees from the Feast following behind him.

"Ah, thank you for having that ready." he said to them with a warm smile before turning to address the guests who were now spreading out behind him.

"As the host of this Feast I decided that I would provide my guests with gifts to my fellow Kings and to Lady Guinevere in order to commemorate this Feast and our competition. And I take great pride is saying that these gifts are all truly one of a kind; there aren't any like them anywhere else in the world."

Kaida could see the curiosity and interest on their faces and in their posture. His claim was quite a bold one after all, all of them were experienced in the magical world and had seen wonders and horrors that most could never even imagine. In the face of that his claim must have seemed as challenging.

The possessor of the Dragon's Roar wondered what exactly he had chosen as gifts that he was so sure would impress those that had faced and defeated gods.

Reaching out to the cart he picked up the first of the lengths upon it. The one he chose was just less than two metres in length and wrapped in silk the same shade of cyan that the Chinese Campione had worn when she arrived to battle the Great Sage and his siblings.

"First for my honoured sempai," Shirou said as he passed the wrapped object to her. "Please, open it here and tell me what you think."

There was a definite hint of excitement on the beautiful King's face as she used her fingers to break the thin threads that bound the wrapping closed. As she did so Kaida wondered just how long it had been since she'd had an experience like this. As a Campione Luo Hao-sama would receive tribute and gifts from all the magical clans and organizations in her lands, how long could one receive such gifts before the experience grew stale? This must be something almost wholly new to her, the receipt of a gift from an equal.

Her thoughts were cut off as the silk fell away to reveal what it had previously hidden.

It was a Ji, a traditional Chinese style halberd, with a wicked spear head and a crescent-moon blade on the side of the shaft just below it. A blood red tassel decorated the haft under the blade and lent colour against the gleaming black of the spear's length. Though the metal gleamed like polished silver and the black wood shone with care there was something more to the weapon, something that gave it a gravity that reminded her ever so slightly of being in the presence of a god.

"To you sempai I give the weapon of the mighty Lü Bu Fèngxiān. Though its last owner had a somewhat evil reputation none may deny his strength. It is my hope that this spear will serve you as well as it did him, but through happier times."

The face that the Ruler of the Martial Realm now wore was a sight to behold. It was the face of a warrior that had been handed the most perfect weapon they had ever seen in their lives mixed with the expression of a child at Christmas that has just opened a present to find the best toy imaginable within.

"King Shirou, you . . . you rob me of words." With a rapturous expression on her face she swung the spear in her hands around, then down, up, back once more. In a matter of moments the weapon was whistling through the air stabbing at imaginary foes and blocking phantom attacks.

Kaida found herself entranced. The sheer . . . perfection of the moves, their grace, their timing, it all spoke of skill that was beyond anything she had ever seen in her life. Were the warrior before her an artist and her work a painting then entire nations would go to war for possession of it.

The movements ended and the spear came to rest upon its pommel as Luo Hao-sama leaned it against her shoulder.

"Magnificent, its reach, its weight, its sharpness, all of them are perfect. I know not where you managed to acquire such a treasure, but for the generosity you've shown in bequeathing it to me you have placed me substantially in your debt my ally."

"There's more to that weapon than merely its superb form, Houtengeki possesses the power to grant its wielder additional strength in battle when its versatility is properly employed. I have little doubt that you will be more than able to bring out these additional powers given your magnificent skills. It also has a final ability, but I shall explain that after I have given the others their own gifts."

Apparently the Chinese King was stunned into silence by the magnificence of the gift, because all she did was nod in agreement as her eyes remained fixed upon the weapon she had been given.

Turning back to the cart the eighth Campione picked up another of the long wrapped objects, this time one wrapped in purple silk.

"John Pluto Smith, I've been told that you possess an Authority that allows you to command the faeries of the astral plane. With that in mind I felt that this might be a most suitable gift for you."

Kaida watched as the American King wordlessly took the gift and broke the threads holding it closed. The purple cloth fell away to reveal a long blood red spear. The only thing about it that wasn't red was the silver pommel at the end of the shaft. Aside from that nothing broke the scarlet of its length. On the flat of the blade of the spearhead she could see runes carved in, also the length of the shaft was a raised pattern of ridges that resembled roots or veins and gave the weapon an oddly organic look. All in all the lance had an unearthly quality to it, something quieter and subtler than the powerful presence of the last weapon, something undeniable.

"Allow me to present to you Gáe Dearg, the Crimson Rose of Exorcism and weapon of the legendary Irish hero Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. As a faery made weapon I thought it an appropriate gift for you to receive from me."

The masked King silently stared at the weapon he now held, testing its weight and seeing how it fitted into his hands. Though the young Hime-Miko knew she was no authority upon weapons she was certain that the spear that the King of the Underworld now held was an outstanding such arm.

"It has the ability to sever the ties on any mortal magecraft it touches for as long as it is in contact with it. I'm not sure how well it will perform against the Authority of a Heretic God, but I wouldn't underestimate it. Since I've heard that you often have to deal with numerous unscrupulous magic users I thought that such a weapon might be of use to you."

There was a moment of silence, Kaida wasn't sure about the other but in that moment her mind was busy trying to imagine all the uses of such an ability as well as trying to calculate such a weapons value. And he was just giving it away as a gift?

"This is truly a kingly gift Shirou." Smith said slowly as he tested the point with his gloved fingertip. "Though I confess to having no skill with a spear I think it's safe to say that in the future I shall be investing considerable time into learning how to wield such a marvellous weapon properly."

He paused again and then turned to face his host directly.

"I cannot find the words to express my gratitude for this gift. This is a weapon that entire organization would be willing to bankrupt themselves in order to gain and you're simply giving it to me as a gift?"

There was another pause, then Kaida saw the American Campione's shoulders beginning to shake. For a moment she thought that he was weeping, overcome by the magnitude of the gift given to him.

Then the King of Los Angeles threw his head back and roared with laughter.

"Splendid, oh this is most splendidly done King Shirou. To simply see this I would have travelled to this land, but to actually receive such a gift? Oh this is a memory that I shall treasure to my dying day. A marvellous performance indeed, truly the act of a King."

For a moment her King's face looked a bit lost, then a smile broke over his face and he nodded towards the cape wearing God Slayer as his laughter died down into quiet chuckling. Seeing that John Pluto Smith had calmed down Shirou turned to the cart again, this time taking up the bundle wrapped in red.

"Kusanagi Godou, you proved to be something of a challenge to find an appropriate gift, but I think this will suit you well."

With those words he handed the two metre long bundle to his fellow Japanese King.

Kaida could see the uncertainty in the black haired young man's face as he took the wrapped object. She could understand it, all the information she'd received from the History Compilation Committee indicated that save for when he was in pitched combat Godou-sama was generally a pacifist. Apparently he didn't even carry around the Ama no Murakumo no Tsurugi blade that he had gained because he didn't want to violate the firearms and weapons regulations. Given that it was easy to understand why he might be somewhat less enthusiastic that his fellow Kings to receive a weapon.

However the spear that was revealed by the falling away of its silken wrapping was very different to the weapons that had been given to the two older Campione. It was a spear, at least in form it was, but she had serious doubts as to whether or not it would be able to perform as one. Its entire length was gilded with golden ornamentation and jewels while the spear head seemed to be solid gold and was almost visibly blunt. With such a weapon he might be able to bruise someone or poke an eye out if he was very skilled, but that was all.

Quite simply it was more of an ornamental weapon than a functional one.

The young Hime-Miko's eyes flicked to the other occupants of the room and could see a certain level of discontent in their expression, especially the girls that had accompanied Godou-sama. She could understand their feeling easily enough, both Luo Hao-sama and John Pluto Smith-sama had been given weapons that practically radiated a deadly keenness that identified them as masterwork weapons. This . . . this was little more than a glorified butter knife, a beautiful one to be sure, but nothing in comparison to the weapons the others had received.

"You disappoint me King Shirou," the tone of the Chinese Campione's voice was sorrowful and disillusioned, "I had not thought that you would insult my sworn brother and your fellow King of Wakoku by presenting him with such a weak gift?"

"Don't worry Nee-san, I'm sure-" Godou-sama began to say, only to be cut off by his newly sworn sister.

"No! Both myself and King Smith have been given magnificent gifts, that yours is so much less is an offence to you and to us."

Kaida was beginning to worry as a slightly unpleasant atmosphere began to fill the room, but then she looked at Shirou-sama and saw that he was relaxed despite the situation. Indeed he was actually smiling softly.

"Sempai, your willingness to defend your sworn brother does you credit, but do you really think so poorly of me? And do you think that any gift of mine would be of a nature so easily discerned?"

At the eighth Campione's question the older God Slayer's face suddenly froze and then went blank.

"I had some trouble deciding what gift would be appropriate for my fellow Japanese King," Shirou-sama explained as he gestured towards the golden lance. "I had a number of options, but since I'd already given spears to you and to King Smith I thought it appropriate to give Godou one as well. After a bit of reflection I thought it unlikely that Godou here would appreciate being given such spears as one that inflicts wounds that never heal or one that invariably seeks its target's heart.

"That was when I thought of this lance. Trap of Argalia, the spear of Astolfo, the Twelfth Paladin of Charlemagne. It isn't a weapon that is made to kill, rather it is a tool used to deliver a curse."

He must have seen the look of worry that passed over his guest's face because he held up a hand to forestall any questions as he smiled reassuringly.

"It is a harmless bewitchment I assure you. Simply put, when it strikes a foe anywhere then it will place a curse upon them that will affect their lower body and force them to kneel down and not get up. Their legs will stay that way until you release them by touching them with the lance's pommel or until the power of the curse exhausts itself."

Godou-sama's face lost its growing concern and instead began to look a bit puzzled. Once again Shirou-sama spoke up first having anticipated his questions.

"I know that you're more than a bit reluctant to use your Authorities against humans. In all honesty this restraint is to your credit, but I thought that you might like to have an option for subduing your foes in a relatively harmless manner. I don't think that the Trap of Argalia will be able to work on a Heretic God or a Campione, but in subduing mages and other humans it should serve you well."

The seventh Campione slowly nodded as he looked at the golden weapon with new eyes. As for Luo Hao, she seemed to be undergoing some internal struggle.

"King Shirou . . ." the words came out of her as though they were being dragged, "I have done you an injustice, please accept my . . . my apology for leaping to such an unworthy conclusion about your gift to my brother."

The beautiful martial artist looked as though she was being torn between the urge to flee in shame and simply annihilating everyone present to eliminate all witnesses to her blunder.

"Sempai, you have very little to apologise for. You saw what you thought was an insult to your newly sworn brother and leapt to his defence. Granted if you had but waited a moment you would have seen it was unnecessary, but the act itself was a worthy one."

The Hime-Miko turned maid quietly let out a sigh of relief as Luo Hao-sama's face once more returned to its former calm state. It would seem that once more Shirou-sama was able to choose the right words and delivered them with the right level of regality to calm the situation; truly he was most skilled at diplomacy. Idly she wondered what kind of training he had received in the past to possess such presence and diplomacy.


-()-


Shirou turned back to the cart and allowed himself a small sigh of relief.

That had been nerve wracking. He'd known damned well that by proving Luo Cuilian wrong in her accusations he'd be unintentionally striking her in her most sensitive spot, her ego, but hadn't been able to see a way out of it. He'd hoped that she would take him proving her wrong with good grace, but instead it seemed that she was caught in a kind of mental loop driven by her own pride.

On the one hand she took great pride in her honour and righteousness; as such she would not break her oath of non-violence. On the other hand her pride would not allow her to admit to having been wrong in her accusations of others as doing so would itself mark her honour and reputation, a thought that was enough to lead her into trying to reassert her honour through violence. But she couldn't because of her honour, but she had to because of her honour . . .

In an old American sci-fi show he recalled having once seen an android whose electronic mind had been caught in a similar loop of logic have its head explode as it couldn't cope with it. He wasn't entirely sure what the results would have been for the god slaying martial artist, so he'd spoken the words that he had hoped would salve her pride while not imperilling his own image as a king. Honestly he hadn't been sure it would work since he'd been pretty much babbling the words as they came to him, but to his surprise it seemed to have actually succeeded.

"As with the other gifts that I have given the Trap of Argalia has an extra ability that will prove to be quite useful to you, however I'll explain it after I've given my final gift."

Deciding that dwelling on what had happened would serve no purpose Shirou ploughed on with the distribution of his gifts. Only one more left now, that one he'd prepared for the blonde Divine Ancestor that he'd impulsively invited to his Feast.

This last spear was wrapped in golden yellow silk and had been the gift he had been the least sure of giving.

He'd been pretty confident about passing Noble Phantasms to his fellow Kings. Giving them such powerful weapons would only aid them in their duties of eliminating troublesome gods and villains. Also, though he'd felt slightly guilty of taking it into account, there was no chance of them being able to turn those weapons against him. If they did then he could simply reduce them back to their component Prana with a glance and an effort of will.

Still he'd originally been hesitant to give this particular Noble Phantasm to Guinevere, as doing so could raise too many questions that he'd rather stayed buried. Still in the end he'd decided to give it to her for a number of reasons. He'd wanted to keep the pattern of all the gifts being spears or lances. He'd wanted to ensure that the Divine Ancestor would leave with a friendly impression of him rather than as a potential enemy. He'd wanted to see how she'd react to receiving this weapon. But most of all he decided to give it to her because it had somehow felt right to do so. The same instinct that had driven him to naming himself the Strongest Steel and to not use Excalibur early on in his battle with Mordred had urged it of him.

Shirou liked to think that since becoming a Campione he'd managed to temper his tendencies to be impulsive and to act without forethought. However despite this he still considered himself someone who listened to his instincts, especially since they tended to steer him right most of the time.

With a certainty that he was doing the right thing he handed the wrapped weapon over to the Witch Queen and stepped back.

The silk wrapped object was almost comically oversized in the childish Divine Ancestor's hands, but she was strong for her size and had little trouble in keeping it and herself balanced as she broke the bindings on it and pulled the silk off.

The spear was a dull dark red along its whole length. It lacked the vivid blood colour of Gae Dearg, but in some indefinable way it seemed more real than the faery wrought weapon. If Shirou had to put it into words the best way he could think of was to say that Gae Dearg was a magnificent gift that had been given to a great man so he could use it to fight. This spear, on the other hand, was plain and unadorned. Its head was unusually large and flat, but other than that it was devoid of ornamentation. This was a spear meant simply for battle, a lance not meant to look good, only to kill.

That was all there was to it, no aura of greatness, no presence of mystery, just the rock solid certainty that this was a weapon that was very very good at what it was made to do.

"Allow me to present to you Rhongomyniad, the spear that strikes and slays. Weapon of King Arthur and the lance he used to slay Mordred during the battle of Camlann. It is a fine spear with the power to ignore such defensive measures as enhanced healing or invulnerable skin. Before it all flesh becomes mortal unless the power of the spear is overwhelmed by a greater power."

Guinevere wasn't reacting to his explanation of the weapon's abilities, in fact she hadn't moved since she'd laid eyes upon the lance. In fact, now that he took a closer look at her, he could see that her pupils seemed to have shrunk to pin pricks even as she stared fixedly at the weapon.

"Lady Guinevere, are you alright?"

"That . . ." her voice was so quiet that it was barely above a whisper. "That . . . isn't possible."

"What do you mean Lady Guinevere?" The question was from John Pluto Smith who was now leaning on his crimson spear as though it were a walking staff. His tone was curious and just a touch concerned.

"This spear cannot exist, not as a mortal weapon like this."

The Witch of Briton's voice was growing stronger now as she came out of her stunned state.

"Rhongomyniad isn't real; it is a part of the mythology of King Arthur that was made up by bards and poets in order to embellish the original tale."

"Oh? And how is it that you can say such with such conviction?"

The question of Luo Hao wasn't confrontational, nor did it imply that she didn't believe the Divine Ancestor's claim. It was simply a question asked in curiosity.

"Because Guinevere was the one that originally suggested it to them!"

There was a slight note of desperation to her voice as she said that. Shirou could sympathise with her, at least to a degree. Right now she was being confronted with an impossibility, and it was causing some of the foundations of her life to shake.

"This weapon cannot exist. Artus used Excalibur to strike down Mordred. It was only when the tales of Arthur were being written that it was included. Even if it became legendary enough to be a part of the new war god Arthur then this weapon should be a solidified Authority. But this, this is a weapon of the mortal world, a weapon of power and legend, but still of the mortal world."

"So . . . it's not the spear of King Arthur?"

Godou's voice was confused; clearly he wasn't quite getting what it was that was distressing the Divine Ancestor so much.

"But it is," A look of . . . painfully lost longing swept across the child like face of the fallen divinity. "Guinevere can feel it within the spear, the shadow of the presence of both Arthur and Artus. I can feel the memory of their strength even through it should be impossible."

Her eyes finally left the lance and turned towards the host of the feast.

"How? How can this be? This weapon is nothing but a story, a tale made for a purpose that it failed. How can it be real?"

This was a question that he'd been expecting to receive from at least one of his guests when he gave them their gifts. Since all of them had legends attached to them it was inevitable that someone would ask how such armaments could have been possible. He'd considered a number of replies and had taken into account a number of factors.

Luo Hao was at least partly aware of his abilities with Tracing due to their time together in the cave under the mountain. All the Campione had seen him pull out weapons from nowhere to defend against Sun Wukong's attack and he was pretty sure that Guinevere had been witness to his battle with Mordred. Given all that it meant that any attempt to keep secret his ability to pull weapons out of nowhere was pretty much laughable at this point.

However there was also the fact that nobody was privy to the exact details of what he could do, so that meant Tracing was still a big advantage to hold so long as he could preserve some of its mystery.

So he'd decided to fall back on a relatively simple course of action.

"My Lady Guinevere, all stories are real. It's just that they aren't all real in the same story."

That was his solution. Basically he was going to say something suitably mysterious and cryptic and hope that they bought it. Perhaps not the most graceful option, but he didn't have much faith in his abilities to lie outright to them. Apparently even with Archer's memories he had a very poor poker face.

Still the deliberately vague answer seemed to have satisfied the Divine Ancestor, for now at least, because she slowly nodded her head before stepping back. Her posture was slightly dazed, as though she still couldn't quite process what had happened, and the way she was holding the spear . . . Well it was more as though she were hugging the shaft to her as though frightened it would disappear.

Right, now there was only one last part of his gift giving left to do and his own part of the evening would be complete. Turning to Illya he gestured for her to come over to him.

"All the weapons that I have given you tonight are called Noble Phantasms. These breed of magical arms can range wildly in abilities and power, but they all do share one useful feature. Illya, could you please manifest your lance?"

His silver haired adopted sister glanced at him and hesitated for just a moment. He could understand that, it went against almost all her instincts as a Magus to so freely demonstrate one of her trump cards. But in this company perhaps it was better to advertise that she had her own weapon and was not reliant on her puppet for protection. She must have reached the same conclusion because she nodded to him and held out her hand.

There was a brief shimmer of golden light and then she was holding Beautiful Head Taker.

"Noble Phantasms can enter an astralized state. In this way the can constantly be with you without being seen or touched by any others. It's extremely convenient as it allows you to take them with you anywhere and not have to worry about losing them."

A mischievous thought passed through his mind and decided to indulge in a little fun.

"And if you buy four or more today you'll receive a pair of swords in addition at no extra cost."

Though that line brought puzzled looks to the faces of both Luo Hao and Guinevere, but he noticed Godou smiling and Smith's shoulders shaking slightly as he silently chuckled.

"Merely a joke, please just ignore it." The eighth Campione waved his hand dismissively before turning back to Illya. "Anyway, all of your own spears can do the same thing; all you need to do is know the trick of it. As Campione all of you have the magic, and Lady Guinevere will have no trouble with it I'm sure. Now if you'll just watch as Illya here show you how it's done you should be able to get it yourselves fairly easily."


-()-


Guinevere leaned back against the wall and clutched the lance to her as she watched the antics of her fellow guests.

She knew she was being a bit childish, treating the weapon as though it were a stuffed toy, but the feel of the power within it, the almost forgotten magnificence of Artus' presence; she had wanted to experience them for so long and now she had this faint echo of them.

She knew that her memory had many holes in it, that over the cycles of reincarnation that she'd been forced to undergo she had lost many of her recollections of those long ago days when her past self had served at her King's side. But for all that she could still remember his divine visage, the tenor of his voice, so many small things that her past self had loved and worshipped in the King of the End.

So after all this time with only memories to sustain her there was a comfort to being able to hold this echo of his presence to her heart.

She was absolutely sure now that there had to be some sort of connection between the red haired Campione and her beloved King. There was simply no other way to explain the impossibility that was his gift to her. But how might that affect her plans? She was sure that this eastern chain of islands was where he rested, every piece of information that she'd been able to accumulate confirmed it.

The problem was that she was a bit uncertain as to what her next move should be. A single Campione, especially one as young and inexperienced as Kusanagi Godou, she could have either avoided or manipulated. However two Kings so close together made such a task far more difficult. And if both of them were to become her enemy then her task of reviving her King would become nigh impossible to accomplish.

Patience was her best course of action, she decided. She would move slowly and carefully, making no aggressive moves or large actions. Due to her aiding sir Shirou, as well as this Feast, she was on cordial, if not friendly, terms with the God Slayers of this land meaning that so long as she didn't cause trouble then she could probably move around quite freely in their lands.

Yes, when thought of in that light it made sense to take her time and pace herself in her search. Why if she was fortunate then she'd form a closer relationship with sir Shirou and end up spending much more time in his company.

. . .

To study him of course, to learn of whatever link he might have to her beloved Lord.

As she felt her cheeks red once more the Witch Queen shook her head to dispel the images her treacherous imagination was producing. Trying to distract herself Guinevere glanced over to the side where the four Kings were clustered together about sir Shirou's sister.

It had been no trouble at all for the blonde haired Divine Ancestor to master the trick of rendering her new gift insubstantial at will; after all she was a witch beyond mortal comparison. It had been the work of only a glance to realize how it was done and to duplicate it.

Her Eminence had also been able to grasp the trick with great ease. Of course that was hardly a surprise given her mastery of the Daoist arts. To someone who had so mastered the eastern ways of magic that she could create talisman beasts at a whim or alter her physical state grasping the means to astralize her weapon was a minor feat.

John Pluto Smith had had a slightly more difficult time of it, but only in the sense that it had taken him a full minute to grasp the method rather than comprehending it at a glance. He'd had a number of false starts, but after seeing Illyasviel Von Einzbern demonstrate it again a couple of times the caped King of Los Angeles had been able to disappear and then summon the crimson lance that he had been gifted.

That had just left King Kusanagi Godou still trying to grasp the trick. Unfortunately it seemed that the seventh Campione had all the magical finesse of a drunken baboon. His first attempt to channel magic into his gift had ended up burning a small hole into the floor as his mana missed the lance entirely and instead ignited the wooden floorboards. Four more marks had joined the first in swift succession before the now embarrassed and slightly panicking young man had managed to direct his energy into the golden spear he held.

That had been nearly a quarter of an hour ago. Bit by bit he was becoming able to 'astralize' the magical weapon, but he still wasn't able to do it completely. That had been rather amusing to watch; somehow Godou-sama had managed to cause the middle third of the lance to fade causing it to drop from his hands even as the two ends behaved as though there were still a connection between them.

Sir Shirou had been perplexed by the sight; he'd commented that to the best of his knowledge it shouldn't have been possible to only partially shift a Noble Phantasm to spiritual form. In Guinevere's opinion this showed that though the seventh Campione was a formidable warrior his skills in magic were so lacking as to be nonexistent.

"Got it!" the exclamation of triumph brought the blonde Divine Ancestor out of her thoughts and back to the present. Glancing over she was just in time to see Godou-sama hold out his hand and cause the Trap of Argalia to materialize in his grasp.

"Well done Godou," Sir Shirou congratulated his fellow King, "It would seem that you have the hang of it now."

With a smile on his face the slayer of Mordred stepped back and regarded his assembled guests.

"With this last act I have ensured that my gifts will never be beyond your reach. I now declare that my Feast has ended and that we can all now go our separate ways."

"Actually there is a single event left to the night."

It was only when all eyes had turned upon her that Guinevere realized that it had in fact been her that had just spoken. Ahhh, why had she said that? This was just a small idea that had been germinating at the back of her mind, she wasn't ready to say it in front of everyone, she wasn't ready to announce her idea right here in front of a full half of the world's Campione.

No, calm down. She was Guinevere, keeper of the Holy Grail and beloved child of the Knight of the Lake. Certainly she became nervous when made the centre of attention, but she could endure this.

"King Shirou has given me this most splendid gift. It is only fitting that I at least grant him something in return, I admit that it is a small thing, but it is something that Guinevere alone among us may do. I may grant him his first title as a King."

She said her words with just a trace of defiance in her voice. She knew that this was her right in a way. It was something of an unspoken law that for all their vast power Campione were not allowed to grant themselves their first title. That was one of the very few powers that the rest of the world had over them. Of course any fool that granted a King an unflattering title would soon find themselves the subject of their ire, so one had to be careful in the naming.

In recent years it had been the Witengamot's leader, the Princess Alice, that had given the Black Prince Alec his name. Well if the so called princess of her homeland could name that troublesome young man then Guinevere could certainly name this young King that had slain one of her most bitter enemies and saved her life. And she could do it before his peers and their companions.

The name had come to her while she had been trying to work out the connection between her King and this young God Slayer. She had been remembering the impossibility of the limitless steel that she had seen within him. Then there were the swords that he'd been able to produce out of nowhere, swords that should have been impossible for him to wield such as Excalibur and swords that should be impossible such as the one he'd called Arondight. Then she had remembered that enormous giant of metal that had radiated power on a scale that to her knowledge only three gods had ever been able to match. That had been what the Traitor Knight had wanted to become, but what he had desperately sought Sir Shirou had attained.

In truth she would have liked to give him the title 'King of Swords', but she knew that the Italian Campione had already laid claim to that name. However that was acceptable because she had thought of another title, one suitable to a mortal as impossible as this young God Slayer.

"Mordred sought to usurp the title of the Strongest Steel from my King," she declared as she stepped forwards. "By having slain him you have ended his threat and done the world a service in exterminating such a vile god. During that battle you laid claim to the title of Strongest Steel yourself; therefore I name you the King of Steel Sir Emiya Shirou. In time my Lord may revive and come to challenge you for the name, but until then it is yours and I am sure that you shall bear it with honour and pride."

"Oh? This is indeed a most suitable ending to the evening, congratulations upon your new name King Shirou."

Luo Hao's musical voice was the first to speak up in response to the Divine Ancestor's words.

"Uh, yeah. Congratulations I suppose." King Kusanagi sounded a bit unsure as to exactly what he was congratulating his fellow King for, but trusted his sworn sister that it was something worth congratulating.

"Indeed, a strong name to be known by King Shirou." Agreed John Pluto Smith as he made his own opinion on the eighth Campione's new title known.

"The King of Steel?" By the sounds of it Sir Shirou was a bit uncertain of the name.

"It suits you onii-chan," the adopted sister of the Feast's host spoke up for the first time since they had all entered this room. "After all 'Steel is my body' remember?"

Guinevere frowned ever so slightly at that. That had been what the newly named King of Steel had said when Mordred had asked how he could have Steel within him. 'Steel is my body and fire is my blood', that had been what he had said. Was there perhaps some special significance to that? Another puzzle it would seem, just one more to the web of such that seemed to spin themselves around her host.

Meanwhile the object of her speculation had nodded to his sister and then turned to once more address his guests.

"Does anyone else have any surprises that they want to bring out before the evening is done?" When nobody spoke up the red haired young man nodded to himself and spread his hands. "Then I shall declare my feast to be ended."

There was a pause then John Pluto Smith stepped forwards.

"In that case . . . King Shirou, I want to offer my deepest thanks for a most magnificent night. I had not known what to expect when you suggested a banquet and a contest of kingship, but now I tell you that you succeeded in surpassing my every expectation."

The masked King of Los Angeles turned slightly so that he was now facing all his fellow Kings.

"Tonight has been a most fine night and I am most pleased to have shared it with you all. Should any of you find yourselves upon my lands do not hesitate to contact me, I shall try to be as fine a host as the master of this feast has been."

With a flourish of his cape he sketched an over elaborate bow to all within the room.

"Now that the feast has ended I think it is time for me to once more say my goodbyes and leave the stage. Home and duty call and it does no good for the King to be away from his kingdom for too long."

As he finished speaking the American Campione seemed to simply fade from existence. No, that wasn't quite right. Guinevere could feel it with her mystic senses; John Pluto Smith was using one of his Authorities to seamlessly slip from this world to the netherworld. For most such a feat normally required an elaborate and powerful ritual; however for the King of the Underworld it was as easy as walking through an open door.

"I likewise think it is time for me and my young eagle to depart back to Mount Lu. King Shirou, tonight has been the most splendid Banquet that this Luo Hao has ever attended. For this experience I herby declare you to be my ally and friend and shall reward you accordingly when I have found a suitable prize."

Reaching out the beautiful martial artist placed her right hand on the young man's shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie.

On seeing this Guinevere found, much to her own surprise, that she was mentally evaluating methods by which to kill the Chinese Campione.

Reaching over with her left hand the Ruler of the Martial Realm grasped the shoulder of Kusanagi Godou.

"I came to this land seeking to exterminate a god that I was unable to fight to my satisfaction decade ago. Instead I have found a sworn brother and a most worthy ally."

Letting go of the two young men she stepped back and glanced over at her student, who was waiting respectfully next to the young women that had accompanied King Godou.

"Let this lesson engrave itself upon your mind my student. Sometimes you may fail in your objective, but if you look carefully enough then you may find something in that failure of such value that it surpasses your original goal."

The young student of the Ruler of the Martial Realm clasped his hands in respect before him and bowed to his teacher.

"I shall most assiduously commit this lesson to memory honoured teacher. My deepest and most reverent thanks for imparting your wisdom upon this unworthy pupil of yours."

"I then shall bid you both a good evening and wish you prosperity and success in the future. If either of you find yourselves in the lands of China do not hesitate to call upon me so that I might demonstrate the hospitality of the Luo family."

Stepping back to stand beside her student the female Campione nodded to the two young men before a veritable blizzard of flower petals suddenly sprang up around them both and hid them from view. When the petals settled and disappeared there was no sign of the martial artists left.

"There is a lady that knows how to make an exit." Commented sir Shirou as he turned to face King Godou and the young women that were accompanying him.

"Will you all be alright getting back to your homes? As I understand it you were dropped off by a limo provided by the History Compilation Committee. Would you like me to see about getting in touch with them?"

"No need to inconvenience yourself King Emiya." Answered the blonde haired woman in the red dress as she stepped forwards to stand next to her King. "As soon as Godou learnt how to astralize the gift you gave him I knew that the evening would be ending and sent a text message to our contact at the Committee. Her reply says that the limousine should be here to pick us in just a few minutes, so there's no need to worry about us."

The eighth Campione blinked, then nodded in acknowledgement.

"I see, King Godou I have to say that your companions are very efficient."

"Don't I know it." perhaps the words were directed more to himself than anyone else, but the ears of the Witch Queen were none the less sharp enough to pick up the mumbled comment.

"I . . . I want to say thanks for tonight. I really didn't know what to expect when I came here but it's been pretty awesome."

"Of course," Sir Shirou was now smiling good naturedly as he replied, "With such illustrious guests could I really afford to achieve anything less than awesome?"

"No. No, I guess not."

After another grin to his fellow Japanese King the red haired teen turned to face Guinevere.

"And what of yourself Lady Guinevere? Will you have no trouble making your way back home?"

The blonde Divine Ancestor drew herself up even as she did her best to keep from flushing.

"You need not concern yourself with Guinevere King of Steel; I am perfectly able to make my way home from here."

In response to her attempt at haughtiness Sir Shirou simply smiled in a way that sent her heart thumping.

"I apologies for being remiss in my thanks for my new title. Please allow me to thank you for my new name; I imagine that it will make life somewhat more . . . interesting."

Guinevere didn't trust herself to speak in reply, so she merely nodded her head. This was absolutely ridiculous. Why was it that with a few simple sentences he seemed able to tear her composure to shreds and leave her feeling as though her face would soon burst into flames?

Taking hold of herself she decided it was high time for her to be on her way. Once she was back at one of the hidden castles she'd prepared she would take the time to sit down and properly analyse her feelings as well as try to unravel the complicated knot of mysteries that seemed to surround the eighth King.

Even as she summoned up her magic she curtsied to Sir Shirou.

"Guinevere would like to thank you for a most excellent night King Shirou. I have had the chance to defend my King, have received a marvellous gift and have dined upon splendid food. Though I am not your peer I will also offer my own hospitality if I ever have the chance."

As she finished speaking the Divine Ancestor's vision of the room was cut off as the glamour effect of her spell engaged. From her side it appeared as though a thick mist had swept across her vision, but from the outside it would appear as though a small sand storm of golden dust had sprung up and wrapped around her. As her spell completed and her translocation began the Witch Queen tried to suppress the thought that the effect of the golden dust hadn't been necessary. It had been a whim, that was all. Just a whim.

She certainly hadn't been trying to one up her Eminence Luo Hao by creating a more spectacular departure effect than her.

And she certainly hadn't done it to impress Sir Shirou.

Really

. . .


-()-


Shirou sat down at his desk and let out a sigh of relief.

It had been just a few minutes since he had seen Godou and his companions off to their limo and said goodbye, but it was only now that he was finally relaxing.

Illya had gone to her workshop, determined to close the small flaw that had allowed the false assassins to slip past her fields. As for Shirou himself, he just wanted to stop and rest for a little bit.

Even though the Feast had gone as well as could be hoped for it was still an exhausting affair. So many things could have gone wrong and so many problems could have grown from it, yet somehow it had all worked out and all his guests had left happy with their evening's events.

So, now he was the King of Steel huh? Well the name suited him he supposed, but that comment about Artus reclaiming the name from him sounded slightly ominous.

Ahh, he couldn't be bothered to think about that for the moment. Right now he was tired and needed to do something simple to unwind.

Glancing down at his desk he saw his new journal. Yes, that was something to do. Writing a letter to Sakura to tell her about what had happened tonight would be just the thing to let him loosen up a bit before going to bed.

As he reached for his pen a thought occurred to the eighth Campione. Tonight was something of a turning point. It marked the end of his period of perpetration and reclusiveness. As of now his power base was solidly established enough that he was no longer content to simply stay in the background. He wanted to find a way back to his home dimension; he wanted to see Sakura again.

As of now he was going to begin actively seeking ways to achieve that. He would continue to build up his power on every level he could, but now that he felt he had a secure foundation it was time to put that power to use.

With a nod to himself as he made the decision he put his pen to paper and began to write.

Dear Sakura,

Things have been interesting today to say the least. The Feast I held began at . . .

A small smile played over Shirou's lips as he began to write his description of the day's events. One day . . . One day Sakura would read these letters. She'd learn of all the things he'd done in the time they were separated and she'd laugh at his mistakes, gasp at his adventures and probably scold him for the chances that he had taken.

She would.

He swore it.


-/-/-/-


Omake: Unthinkable.

The mood around the circular table was growing sour, tempers were rising and dark looks were being exchanged.

Shirou honestly had no idea how things had gotten this bad, but he was pretty sure it had started when Luo Hao had commented that Guinevere looked too childish to be at the table with the rest of them. The Witch Queen (who had indulged in a bit too much 'liquid courage' in order to face sir Shirou) had responded by saying that the martial artist's current dress made her look like a high class prostitute.

And it made her look fat.

From there things had gone down hill with John Pluto Smith having been accused of being an overgrown man-child playing dress up and Godou having been accused of being a clueless eunuch. After that things started getting nasty.

Quite frankly it was only the earlier vow of non-violence that had kept things from exploding into highly destructive violence already. If he didn't do something soon then his garden was going to be ground zero for a four way brawl between several slightly intoxicated people with no common sense that wielded the powers of gods.

What could he do? What could he do?

Ah . . .

Yes, that could work.

"Alright, if you all want to fight then go ahead, but if you do then this will be the weapon I use to fight you all."

He Traced the weapon in question and showed it to them.

Interestingly enough after seeing it none of them felt like engaging in bloody combat.


-()-


Shirou opened his eyes, but didn't sit bolt upright as he had with his previous dreams. Rather than being disturbing this one had been rather entertaining.

His window's curtains were only half drawn, meaning that some moonlight was illuminating the room, not much but enough to see by. On a whim he extended his hand and Traced the same weapon he had used in his dream. It appeared in his hand and for a moment he simply held it there, looking at it and letting the memories it invoked wash over him.

He could feel it though, its thirst for blood.

Maybe the legendary Torashinai really would be able to frighten Campione into submission. It certainly scared him enough.


\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/


Omake: A Different Crossover

"Bwahahahaha! Give me your energy puny human!"

Illya looked at the frankly ridiculous looking monster in front of her and privately wondered if the universe was making fun of her.

It had been a few weeks since she got here. Angra Mainyu hadn't survived the trip and Shirou had only barely been alive, it had only been a quick application of more than a dozen spells that had placed him in a state of suspended animation and kept him alive. A few uses of hypnosis had set her up as the adopted ward of a rich old man that didn't pay much attention to her and thought she was his illegitimate granddaughter.

Since the basic needs for living were no longer a problem Illya had instead settled down to try and work out how to save Shirou. Originally she'd thought she had a time limit give her short life expectancy, but investigation had revealed that arriving in this world had somehow cured her of her degeneration.

Today she'd been going to one of the shopping centres that had the only semi-reputable occult shop in the area to buy supplies for her experiments when she'd come across . . . this.

The young Einzbern slipped into a corner of the centre and prepared to use a spell to quietly take the thing down without drawing any attention to herself. Under normal circumstances she wouldn't have bothered, but she knew that if she did nothing then her onii-chan would be disappointed in her.

"Stop! Shopping centres are places to enjoy . . ."

Illya felt her jaw drop as a group of young girls in ice skater costumes that resembled sailor fuku uniforms confronted the absurd monster. Everything about them was ridiculous from their poses to their speeches to their attacks as they fought the thing. However the magic that was rolling off them was no joke, and the power that was radiating from the blonde with the absurd hairstyle was comparable to that of the Holy Grail. Certainly it was muted and suppressed, but it simmered there like magma under cool rock.

Illya stayed out of sight and watched as the quintet of colourfully dressed girls first destroyed the monster and then fought the mage that seemed to be the monster's master. They exchanged threats, boasts and some nonsensical words about further masters and messiahs which she didn't pay attention to.

What was important was that she was analysing both the energy that the monster had been stealing and the energy that had been leaking from the girl with the stupid hair style. Both were unfamiliar to her, but she could already see how they could be of use to her in healing Shirou. If she could get one or the other, or preferably both, then there was an excellent chance that she could use them to fully revive her adopted brother.

She watched the confrontation end and both sides make their getaways.

She needed to find out more about them.


-()-


It was later that evening and Illya was a bit tired. She'd some research through various means and had learnt a bit more about the girls she had seen, these 'Sailor Senshi'. First off she was absolutely sure that if this had been her home dimension then the girls would already be on some mage's dissection table with a large number of their organs spread out over the lab's area. Secondly it seemed that everyone in this dimension with any magical ability was an idiot. Of course it also seemed that everyone else was an idiot as well.

The number of reports of incidents in this part of Tokyo was positively staggering, and yet despite that nobody had taken any sort of official action. The local police had no standing orders or procedures; the press printed a few tabloid articles, but otherwise seemed to ignore it. Even those actually caught up in the incidents seemed to return to their lives soon afterwards as though nothing had actually taken place.

Her brow furrowed as a thought crossed her mind. Could it be that there was some sort of massive Bounded Field affecting the entire city, or maybe even country, so that they somehow ignored the strange goings on? It was a huge undertaking, but she knew that something like it had been theoretically postulated by Mages in the past.

Still that wasn't of any concern at the moment. What was of interest was the two energies that she had sensed, both would be of use in her attempts to heal Shirou, the question was how to go about acquiring them.

As she saw it she had two options. The first was to imitate those foolish girls and pretend to be equally idiotic. In this way she could ally with them to take down those that were threatening innocent civilians, get closer to that girl with the ridiculous hair style and analyse her strange energies and steal some of the life force that the monsters were taking. This option gave her the high moral ground, allies/dupes and easier access to one of her targets.

The second option was to set herself up as another 'villain' in competition with both the Senshi and their foes. She was sure that with her magic and a few primitive homunculi she could play the part well while mainly staying out of danger. With this approach she wouldn't need to hold back against each party and could aggressively pursue her objectives. The down side was that it made her everyone's enemy and left her outnumbered.

Or . . . she could try being both. Be the heroine as well as her own enemy. With Wishcraft and some illusion magic it was possible.

Hmmm.


This Omake is actually a story idea that I'm putting up for adoption. Anyone that's interested please get in touch with me.

The basic premise is that Illya finds herself in the Sailor Moon universe with a badly injured and comatose Shirou on her hands. She ends up getting involved in whichever season of Sailor Moon the writer wants her to be in and ends up faced with the choice I've written above.

My personal preference would be that she goes with both routes available to her, forming alliances with both the Senshi and their enemies and plays both sides against each other. This is partly motivated by the thought that while Illya would make an adorable magical girl I think she could also pull off being a mysterious enemy in the same style as Caster in the Unlimited Blade Works route quite well.

Whoever might choose to write this will have to remember that Illya will be something of an antihero due to the fact that she doesn't really care about anyone except Shirou and any friends she might make. Sure she'll act to save people if she can, but that's only because she doesn't want to let Shirou down, not because she really cares about them. She had been trained since a young age to be part of a deadly battle royal; she's even more familiar with death than most normal magi.

Of course the largest advantage that Illya will have over just about everyone in the Sailor Moon universe is that she's far more canny and cunning than any other character there. If the author wants to go with a comedy angle there's also the fact that common sense would be a superpower among such melodramatic but brainless villains such as Queen Beryl or the like.

Below are a few ideas that anyone interested in writing this fic can possibly use if they so choose.

Illya decides that it's unfair that only the villains have their disposable cannon fodder so she becomes the first magical girl with her own minions that she employs in battle. For JUSTICE of course, that's her story and she's sticking with it.

Alternatively she might end up capturing some of the minions of the enemy and subverting them to her own service. That or turn them into her pets, whichever seems more appropriate.

Magical girl Illya will be a bit more proactive than the Senshi, actively hunting down the base of operations of the enemy rather than simply taking out their ventures.

Evil villain Illya will headhunt the dark generals/commanders of the enemy, both metaphorically and literally if it comes to it. I don't know about you but the image of her telling the big bad of the season that her servants have left her because Illya offered them a better deal and health insurance strikes me as hilarious.

Perhaps Illya will recreate Berserker as she did in my own fic. If she's playing the part of the villain it would be amusing for her to comment on how the quality of her minions is by far the superior. If she's being the magical girl it could be the Senshi who comment on how their own ally scares them more than their enemy.

If anyone is interested please let me know.