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.

I'd like to start this on a somewhat different note. As you might have noticed this chapter is a bit later than normal, but this is due to a number of things cropping up in real life. Among them is a website that is being made, one that will have a number of features, such as previews of upcoming chapters and samples of my original work. Anyway, the thing is that I need some pictures to colour it up, and I was wondering if any artists among my readers would like to volunteer to help. As of yet I'm not completely sure what I need, but I should know soon. Please send me a PM if you're interested.

Well, Fate Apocrypha has ended, and I have to say that it was a pretty awesome series. It's almost a shame that I'm committed to this fic, or I'd try to do something with the characters in that show. I especially liked Karna, who I will admit is something of a personal favourite. I mean, it's one thing to read that he's meant to be a Servant on par with Gilgamesh, but it's quite another thing to see it. In his final fight I think he was unleashing a ridiculous amount of firepower, and that was even before he started using Noble Phantasms. Then there was Astolfo, a truly surprising character that came out of nowhere to be another favourite of mine. He was one of the weakest Servants in the war, but everything he did was either endearing or awesome. I'd recommend it to anyone who reads this, but since you're reading it that probably means you're a Fate fan anyway, so such recommendations are superfluous.

Now Fate/Extra Last Encore has come out, and so far I'm liking it. When the game came out in English I bought a PSP simply to play it, and it remains the game I've played the most in my whole life. Seriously, I've played it through something like six times, once for each Servant, and once for each gender. I think that by the end of it I'd totalled up something like two hundred plus hours on it. I was really sad that they never released Fate/Extra CCC in English.

A number of my readers pointed out a plot hole that both me and my Beta missed in the last chapter, namely taking a chunk of poor Akino's remains and using Rule of the Underworld to call up his shade and get some answers from it. This is a good idea, and one I should have thought of to include in the chapter. The reason I didn't is that I already knew it wouldn't have worked. Akino's soul is still trapped within Ahriman after he consumed it, as such it has not yet left for the Underworld, and will not until Ahriman is defeated. If Shirou had tried he would have received no response. That's the reason I didn't include it in the story, since in my mind I knew it wouldn't work I simply dismissed it. Pity, if I had thought of it I could have made a pretty good scene out of it. Ah well, I hope my readers will forgive this minor lapse.

In regards to my last chapter, I'm glad to see that the return of the Mini City Guide Mystic Code was so well received. In answer to a question that a number of my readers have asked; no, Illya was not inspired by the Dresden Files. Mini City Guide is simply the logical extreme of using alchemy for surveillance, at least as far as I can tell. I know that some mages in the Type Moon verse can do the sympathetic magic thing about connecting to something by having a part of it and then using it to spy. I also know that Illya has used certain Mysteries that let her survey things at a distance. With the massive amounts of money and resources available to her after Shirou had established himself it was only logical that Illya would do her best to try to catch up to him after his power up. Given her own massive prana reserves, the versatility of her magic and the gaps in Shirou's own abilities it only made sense that she'd go for some sort of information gathering Mystic Code.

SPOILERS.

I'd like to point out that I didn't want to spend who knows how long familiarizing myself with the roads and parks of Tokyo, so I just went ahead and made up a few places. I know it's not the most accurate way to do it, but it saved me some time that I could use for writing, so I think it a fair exchange.

This chapter sees the beginning of Shirou's fight with Ahriman, and rest assured that what I'm showing is far from the full power of the god. At this point he/she/it is trying to play the role of Illya so as to mess with Shirou's head, rest assured that things are going to heat up as the battle goes on.

We also see Circe finally making her choice as to how she's going to try to survive this mess. You know, originally, back when I was writing my first few chapters, my plan was for Circe to end up becoming associated with Shirou. Of course that was back before I decided to let Guinevere live and to have Lancelot swear her loyalty to him. Heck, back then I was planning to have Tiamat be a big villain and the one that Shirou killed, rather than Venus. However, as the story has progressed I've made a few changes, so the original idea had to change as well. Having Circe join Shirou now would feel rather like I was rehashing what happened with Tiamat, also it would mean that he'd gain a third goddess attending him, something that didn't seem credible.

The Light Novels depicted Circe as something of a stalker character, but not an unintelligent one. In my story she has been forced to deal with hardships and trials that her other self never encountered, and as a result she's a bit more calculating and thoughtful than her canon self, she developed as such purely for survival. Anyway, she's realised that she needs the support of a Campione to survive, and has decided that Godou is the better choice. With Shirou she'd be one of several, but with Godou she is going to be more valuable, and so more prized. The fact that it will also make Athena quite jealous once she returns is just icing on the cake.

Once again, many thanks to my Beta for helping get this chapter ship shape.


Chapter Thirty Eight: Siege of Sin

"Guinevere! Call King Shirou, his enemy is on the move!"

Tiamat's sudden call caught the Handmaiden to the King of Steel somewhat by surprise, but she rallied swiftly. Setting down the amulet that she'd been working on she immediately invoked her magic, crafting a simple spell of communication with a pair of simple gestures, and then sending it off. As the spell sped out of the workshop she turned to look at the golden artefact that Tiamat had been carefully watching.

"Where has the-"

Whatever Guinevere might have been saying was cut off as her eyes landed on the miniature city. On the miniature city the Divine Ancestor could clearly see the grove in the display that indicated where the supposed enemy of their host was. Guinevere couldn't be sure, but it seemed as though the line of nothing was moving towards one of the cities many smaller parks. What was of greater concern was that unlike before the groove did not seem to be limiting itself to lowly populated areas such as back alleys and closed amusement parks, instead it was making its way straight down a main street, seemingly uncaring of attention.

Was this a challenge? Obviously the target of their search could not know that they had such an artefact as this to search for them, but even so appearing in such an overt manner was certain to gain the attention of the Committee agents that were combing the city. Perhaps a normal human would not understand what they saw when they viewed a god, but even the lowliest of the magical association's members would be able to recognize a deity that wasn't attempting to conceal themselves. Obviously they could conceal themselves if they so chose, but equally clear was that they weren't doing so now. What could this be but a challenge?

On its own that would not have been enough to worry her, after all she had faith in her new King, but that was not all that the miniature golden cityscape was showing.

While investigating how the Mini City Guide worked the Witch Queen of Britannia had been able to determine a few of its more basic functions, namely its ability to detect and display divine power. Guinevere wasn't entirely sure how the snowy haired girl had been able to differentiate between normal magic and divine presence, but she had somehow managed it, meaning that the artefact could zero in on divine beings without being distracted by other large sources of magic. Both King Kusanagi, her, Sir Knight and Tiamat had all been added to the spells so that they were recognized as 'friendly' divinities, and so not automatically displayed. Others though, those that the artefact did not recognize, would be displayed quite prominently.

The method that the Mini City Guide used to signify the presence of a divine power was quite simple. A spike would extend from the miniature city with a bright red glow at its tip. If the Handmaiden was interpreting what she had read in the spell work correctly then the size of the spike and the brightness of the glow was a rough indication of how strong the power felt was.

At this moment there were more than a dozen such spikes rising from the artefact.

"What is this?!"

Her shocked cry echoed around the workshop even as she leaned in for a closer look. On a more detailed examination she saw that the situation wasn't quite as dire as she thought it would be. The tiny buildings and streets were a few millimetres tall, and the emerging spikes towered over them. However the spikes weren't all the same length, the tallest of them was about twenty centimetres tall and shone extremely brightly. The next tallest was noticeably shorter, at about fifteen centimetres tall, its light bright, but dimmer than the larger projection. This one was accompanied by two other spikes, each about two thirds as tall as the spike they were with. The other spikes around the miniature cityscape ranged from eight to four centimetres in height, their lights bright and dimmer as was appropriate.

Two gods then, those had to be the taller spikes. The question was what did that make the shorter ones? Divine servants? Empowered mortals? Spirit beasts? Whatever they were it was unlikely that they were weak.

And on top of it all was that groove being cut into the artefact's depiction of the city as it destroyed the connection between the Mini City Guide and the land it drew its information from. What was doing that? Another attendant, or was it another god? As things stood there was no way to tell, since the artefact was unable to draw any information about it.

"It . . . feels wrong."

Guinevere looked up in surprise to see Tiamat glaring down at where the groove was still advancing as though it were some sort of grave insult directed at her.

"Could honoured Tiamat please explain what she means?" The Handmaiden to the King of Steel asked, her eyes flicking from the goddess to the artefact and back again as she did.

"I can feel it, the way that this creation of our host's sister is losing its connection to the land as that . . . presence passes through. I thought that the link was being broken, overpowered, somehow, but what I feel now seems different. It's as though the connection is being corroded rather than broken, eaten away."

Guinevere blinked at her words, then looked at the mortal mage's creation with a speculative eye.

"Honoured Tiamat can actually feel the connections between the artefact and the land through it? Guinevere had not thought that this creation was so versatile."

"It takes a lot of concentration, but it is well within my abilities," The Goddess of Salt Water assured her. "It isn't painful to experience, but it is not a pleasant sensation either. Whatever is causing this, it is dangerous."

"Who's dangerous? What's happened?"

The pair of immortals looked up as they heard the voice of their host. Sir Shirou had just entered the workshop and was now staring down at the miniature city. What was a bit more surprising was that he was not alone; he was accompanied by King Kusanagi.

"What's going . . . wow, what is that?"

The Seventh Campione's question was cut off as he saw the Mini City Guide for the first time. Guinevere could understand his astonishment, the artefact created by young Illya was a marvellous sight to behold, and its picture perfect recreations of the city would have been a marvel even without the attendant magic.

"It's a Mystic Code that my sister created," Sir Shirou explained, "A magical device that helps with tracking divine presences in its area of detection."

There was a momentary pause as the Kusanagi King looked over the golden city in miniature.

"How large is its range?"

"It was able to detect when Sun Wukong escaped and went wild."

"And all those spikes?"

"Signals of unidentified divine power."

There was a pause as all eyes in the room travelled to the numerous spikes upon the artefact.

"We . . . are in a whole mess of trouble, aren't we?"

The Queen of the Divine Ancestors had a bit of trouble placing the tone that the Seventh Demon King was using. She had been expecting anticipation, blood thirst, fear, anger, or maybe even despair, but instead the young man sound more like an overworked assistant that had just been given even more work to worry about. Ah, that was it! He sounded put upon.

. . . Why had she been expecting a more predictable response from a God Slayer?

"This is a full blown invasion," Sir Shirou agreed. "But look at the way they're all set out. Most of the nearer ones are smaller than the rest, so they're most likely weaker than the rest. The stronger ones are further out, and then there's that group together while the strongest is the furthest away."

"So you think we should take the weakest ones out first and then move onto the stronger ones?"

The resigned tiredness had fallen from King Kusanagi's words as though it were shed rainwater, now he sounded far more focused and determined. Guinevere was again reminded that for all the show h made of wanting to be just a normal mortal student he was the God Slayer that had defeated the always victorious Verethragna while he had been but an ordinary mortal himself. Kusanagi Godou was a natural warrior, one that, if born in another time, might have grown up to be a great king or conqueror. Now those instincts were coming to the fore as he was faced with an enemy.

"No," he continued, dismissing his own suggestion. "If we do that then the outmost will have time to do anything they want, plus it would leave us weakened and tired. They're trying to split us up, since there's no other way that we can cover so many targets, so who do they want to go where?"

Heads nodded in agreement about the room at the observation. The tactic the enemy was using was simple, but because of that simplicity there was no way to counter it without additional reinforcements that they didn't have. This momentary lull was broken as a ringing began to emanate from Sir Shirou's pocket. In an instant he had it out and was answering.

"Hello?"

It was only the work of a moment for Guinevere to cast a spell that would allow her to hear the mortal machine. She felt a touch guilty to be eavesdropping upon her King in such a way, but she found her curiosity overcoming such sentiments.

"King Emiya, we have found your sister!"

The King of Steel, who had been leaning in to the display to get a better look, shot up straight as though an electric current had been run through him.

"What?! Where?!"

His barked questions were uncharacteristically sharp for him, but given the circumstances it was understandable.

"She's currently walking down the main Fuishi Road towards the district's main public park," The speaker, whoever they were, paused for a moment, then continued, their voice tremulous with nervous anticipation. "Your majesty, there's something wrong with her. She's leaving footsteps melted into the concrete as she walks, and the agents that tried to retrieve her earlier were slammed into a nearby wall by a gesture from her. She just walked on as though they were nothing to her."

That brought a frown to Guinevere's face, though she swiftly covered it up. That did not sound like the sweet but dangerous girl that was her King's younger sister. Illya was far more deadly than her appearance would suggest, but she was not casual with that power in the way that was being described. Something was definitely wrong here, but the Immortal Ancestor wasn't entirely sure what it was.

"Wait, where did you say she was?"

Her King's question caught her by surprise, she'd thought that he would focus upon her unusual behaviour, but it was her location that he first queried?

"She . . . she's currently on the south end of Fuishi Road and heading towards the park," the agent upon the other end of the line repeated. "She's still a few blocks off though, just coming out of the shops in the area. We were able to evacuate al civilians from the area though, so there's no chance of her having been observed or recorded."

As he listened to the agent's report Sir Shirou had snatched a map from one of the other worktops about the workshop and was scanning it frantically. She could see his eyes flicking about it, clearly looking for something. She could also see the moment that he found what he sought, because she was watching when his eyes widened. He looked over to the miniature city cast in gold, then back at his map.

"Is she alone, or is she being accompanied by anyone? Do you see anything around her, even if she is on her own? A ghost, or a spirit? Anything at all?"

There was a pause, the sound of cloth scraping on stone, then the tink of something being set down.

"No, your majesty, I don't see anyone or anything. It's just your sister, walking down the road and . . . and she attacked an agent that tried to approach her. It was very violent, had he not received immediate treatment from his partner then he would have died!"

There was another pause, but this one was due to the King of Steel focusing upon his sister's creation once more.

"Has she just passed a small road on her left, one that would have led into a dead end back alley for one of the local businesses?"

There was a pause, then the agent replied, his voice tinged with awe.

"That is exactly correct, your highness!"

Guinevere's eyes tracked where her King was glaring, straight at the advancing end of the groove being cut into the display of the city. A groove that had just passed a small road on its left.

"Continue to watch her, but don't let anyone near her, this is . . . bad."

"I . . . yes, of course, my king."

As Shirou snapped his device closed, the Handmaiden could not help but grow fearful for her King. It took no great leap of intellect to realize what he was implying, and it only made things worse.

"You think that that's Illya-chan, don't you?"

The question came from King Kusanagi as he stepped around his host and turned his own gaze down on the miniature city.

"I . . . I think that someone's controlling her. Illya is on her own, but she's not acting as I would expect of her to if she'd somehow escaped her kidnappers. Also, I don't know of any way for her to do this," Shirou waved his hand at the tiny city, indicating the long missing part that had been carved into it. "If she was letting her Berserker run wild I could believe that it was her, even if she had gone . . . hostile. But this is different. Just throwing people around and then moving on without a word, that wouldn't be the way she works even if she was crazed. She likes big and flashy, she likes letting her puppet Berserker run wild. This . . . this just isn't like her. Maybe she'd being followed by something that's making her act like this, that same Heretic God that made the groove in the Guide before."

Guinevere was about to raise her own voice in question when her King's cell phone rang once more. Looking down at it as he flicked it open again Sir Shirou looked somewhat annoyed.

"Yes?"

"Your majesty!" the voice was laden with barely controlled panic. "Things are going crazy here! I was dispatched to check on a sudden surge in magic and then the whole place went mad! There are people trying to stab each other to death right on the streets! My magic is keeping me safe, but there's definitely hostile magic at work here!"

"Where are you?!"

Guinevere listened as the mortal agent spoke of his location. As he did so she saw her King's eyes flick over to where one of the solitary spikes was standing, and it required no great leap of intelligence to understand what that meant.

"Alright, hold fast and do what you can! Help is on the way!" He snapped the device shut again, then turned to Guinevere. "Please call Sir Lancelot; I'll need her to-"

His words were cut off as his phone began to ring once more. There was a distinct narrowing of his eyes as he glared down at the device, then flicked it open and answered the call.

"Yes?"

"Oh, oh thank the gods," If the last voice had sounded panicked this new speaker sounded to be on the very edge of total hysteria. "They-they've all gone mad. They started grabbing food, then they started fighting over it, then . . . then . . . oh gods."

The quavering voice gave way to wracking sobs.

"Hey, HEY!" Sir Shirou's voice cracked like a whip, and both the immortals looked up at him, both recognizing the mettle that they had seen in the King they had sworn themselves to before. "Pull it together! I can't do anything if you don't tell me what's going on! Now, where are you, and what's happening?"

"I . . . I, Yes, yes sir!" The speaker seemed to firm up as they were given direction, purpose, some way to do something. "They've . . . they were fighting over the food, but then one of them went down, a hit to the head or something. The rest just looked at him, then they just . . . Sir, they ATE him! Ripped him apart with their bare hands and teeth!"

That was enough to cause Guinevere's stomach to lurch. She had done many things in her quest to free her former king, but there had been depths she had been unwilling to stoop to. Consuming the flesh of mortals could yield dividends in terms of power, but it also marked you in ways that were impossible to free yourself from. It was a loathsome practice, and one she had never touched.

"There's magic there, correct? You're keeping yourself safe, but it's affecting the others there?"

"Yes . . . yes sir, that's it exactly!"

"Alright, tell me where you are and-"

Again her King was cut of in mid-sentence, but this time it was due to the door to the workshop bursting open as the undead servant, the one with the fine wine collection, dashed in while waving a telephone of his own.

"Shirou-sama, I've got a message from the Committee! There's some sort of epidemic hitting the eastern district of the city! People are dropping into comas right there on the streets!"

Sir Shirou didn't even have time to respond before another shout came, this time from the dark haired Hime-Miko that served him. She dashed in behind resurrected soul, her own phone clutched in her hands.

"Shirou-sama, I was just called by my superiors at the Committee! Something is happening near Tokyo Tower, some sort of riot! Men and women are killing each other! They think that there is some sort of spirit behind it!"

"King Shirou!"

"Shirou-sama!"

The King of Steel didn't even have time to respond to the girl before two more of his servants arrived, their faces pale as they held up phones of their own. Across the patio the Queen of the Divine Ancestors could see others emerging from the manor, and they had phones of their own.

"Shit!" Guinevere was slightly taken aback at the curse word, Sir Shirou was normally very polite in his language, but now there was definite frustration and anger. "You know what this is?"

The question seemed to be addressed at the world in general, and it was King Kusanagi that answered with what was on everybody's mind.

"It's an invasion, not just an attack. Whoever's behind this, they're trying to bury us in so many different attacks that we'll be scattered everywhere."

"More than that, they've sent Illya out into the open, so they know where I'll go." Sir Shirou bit the words out. "I think . . . I think that the other attacks are meant to draw off any help I have so I've got to go there alone."

Guinevere nodded in agreement, pleased that her King had seen through the simple ruse. With so many different assaults going on, and spread out across the city as they were it ensured that Sir Shirou and King Kusanagi couldn't worked together to overwhelm a foe with crushing power. Spread out like this it would take to long for them to deal with them one by one, spreading out their forces was the only logical counter.

"You've seen through it though, so what's the problem?"

The one to ask the question was the Hime-Miko, who had entered the workshop. She was looking around now, her eyes leaving and then returning to the tiny golden city displayed upon the table.

"Because even if I can see through it it makes no difference!" Her King did not snap at the girl, but there was something in his tone that suggested he might really want to. "I know where Illya is now, so I'll be going to get her first. But at the same time I can't just ignore all those other attacks."

He paused, then turned away from the mortal girl to look at Guinevere and Tiamat.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you after you've already helped me, but can I count on you for this?"

The Witch Queen of Britannia opened her mouth to reply, but was beaten to it by Tiamat.

"I am already deeply in your debt, King Shirou, so there is no need to ask if I would aid you against your enemies! I shall burn them to ashes, of that you need not fear! Merely tell me which of your foes you wish to disappear."

The absolute confidence with which she spoke did a good deal to dissipate the sense of panic and doom that had been settling over the room.

"This knight as well! It would hardly do for honoured Tiamat to claim all the enemies and glory for herself, after all. This Knight shall also sally forth to trample the foes of her new King beneath Steadfast's hooves!"

That came from behind the small crowd that was forming at the door to the workshop. Everyone turned to see Sir Lancelot casually lounging upon one of the sun chairs that were lying on the side of the patio.

"Guinevere is willing to aid as well," She declared. "Even though this humble Handmaiden is no great warrior she will put forth her best effort for the sake of her King!"

Guinevere voiced her words as her hands clenched at her sides. She had no delusion that she could offer up the same level of support that Honoured Tiamat or Sir Knight could, not without surrendering her immortality and becoming a dragon once more, but she was still many times more powerful than the average mortal mages. She was certain that she could be of some aid to her King.

"Us too!"

The Queen of the Divine Ancestors glanced over to see that the Hime-Miko had been joined by her friend, and both were wearing resolved expression on their faces. It had been the shrine maiden that had spoken, but her friend was nodding her head in clear agreement.

"Manaka-chan and I, we might not be as strong as your other allies, but we will fight!"

"You can count on me to help too!" King Kusanagi spoke up. "There's no way that I can forgive someone causing this much of a mess."

His words might have been light, but there was a flinty anger in his eyes that forcefully reminded Guinevere that this young man was unquestionably a Devil King. All too often it was easy to become lost in her own King's strength, and to dismiss the might of others. King Shirou had defeated the seventh Campione even when he had been allied with Luo Hao against him. As such it was easy to mentally label him as weaker than her liege and dismiss him from her thoughts.

Foolish, very, very foolish. King Kusanagi was a God Slayer acknowledged by her own liege as well as Luo Hao, and John Pluto Smith. Yes, her King had defeated him at the instigation of Venus, but the King of Disaster had not been trying to slay him at the time. This was the King that had been acknowledged by her own sworn liege as one he could trust. This was the mortal who had faced Verethragna, one of the most powerful of gods, and had defeated him without a drop of magic or divine power of his own.

It felt good to know King Shirou had such allies to call upon.

"Okay, okay," Her King nodded to them, then turned to look at the table-like artefact. He placed his hands on the edge and leaned against it, for a moment looking as though he were struggling against some great unseen burden, then he straightened up and waved them over.

"Alright, Tiamat, Lancelot, could each of you work independently to take down these smaller threats? They are divine in nature, but not the match of true gods, so they are either divine beasts or subordinate gods, either way can you handle them?"

"Ask not such a trivial question," Tiamat's tone was dismissive, and her entire form radiated absolute confidence. "Though I remain less than my full self this goddess has been able to recover much and more of her lost strength while under your protection. Since my battle at your Handmaiden's side against your fellow King my recovery has been even greater, these foes shall drown in the salt water at my command."

Looking at her Guinevere could not help but feel her heart speed up in both fear and awe. When first Tiamat had tricked her way into the house of the King of Steel, and led the Witch Queen to do much the same, she had been a broken and ravaged divinity barely worthy of her name. Back then she had been a shadow of her true self, still beautiful and terrible, but so reduced as to be almost pitiful. Guinevere had watched her grow and recover, had been astonished at the speed with which the lost divinity of the ancient goddess of Chaos grew in strength. The immortal child had not been certain, but she had suspected that some external force had been bolstering Tiamat's torn divinity, granting her the power needed to sustain herself so she could devote more to regaining what had been lost. Then there had been the Dragon Bone that Guinevere had given her in thanks for her standing at her side against the Black Prince, that had no doubt been of aid in her return to power.

The Queen of the Divine Ancestors felt both joy and fear at the Mother of Dragons' growing strength. Antagonistic though they had been Guinevere really had come to think of Tiamat as a friend of sorts. And now the thought of that strength returning no longer worried her as much as it might have once done.

"Aye, this Knight must say likewise," Sir Knight commented as she leaned against the shed's doorframe. "As a sworn knight to her King this Knight will have no hesitation in riding out to do battle with the beasts and horrors that assail the kingdom of her liege. Simply tell this knight where she must trample her foes and she shall leave nought but dust and the corpses of her foes in her wake!"

Colourful as ever, Guinevere felt a slight smile touch her lips as she listened to Sir Knight's declaration. For so many years her beloved protector had been exhausted by her long vigil, wearied by the spell she had laboured under. For centuries she had been forced to bath in the lightning of storms in order to inject vigour and vitality into her weary body. Now such was no longer the case, as a truly incarnated god Sir Knight was regaining all of her lost vitality and glorying in once more being in the service of a King, much as her former charge was doing. Seeing her so lively gladdened the Witch Queen's heart.

"Alright, each of you is good on their own," the words were spoken more to himself than they were to the other occupants of the shed. "Kaida and Manaka though, they're strong but they're lacking in raw firepower. If . . ."

He paused for a moment, then turned to face them, this time looking straight at Guinevere.

"Could you assist them? I know that Kaida's Dragon's Roar is strong enough to hurt them, and Manaka is more than able to hold her own, but they'll need some extra power to back them up."

Guinevere glanced over at the two mortal servants of her King. It was true that she had not had much personal contact with them, but she did have some knowledge of their abilities. The longer haired one, Kaida, she was no warrior, but she had power aplenty and a loyalty to Sir Shirou that would have done any knight of Artur's court proud. The shorter haired girl, Manaka, she lacked in raw power, but made up for it with skill and ingenuity. Her principle loyalty was to her friend rather than to her King, but that didn't mean she was faithless by any measure.

Yes, she could work with them.

"Guinevere is certain that she can aid them in their efforts. Between the three of us this humble Handmaiden is certain that at least two of the beasts shall fall."

Of course by that point she was certain that the mortal girls would be too exhausted to continue, but that was alright. Guinevere could then just join up with Sir Knight to aid in her efforts.

"Thank you," Sir Shirou said, then turned to King Kusanagi. "We've got at least one god on the field, and they're accompanied by two of these . . . other things."

Left unsaid was that he was the only one that could be sent against such a threat. Well, Sir Knight or Tiamat could have done so, but they already had tasks of their own to complete. Then there was the fact that neither of the goddesses was yet at full strength. Tiamat was still recovering, though she did seem to be most of the way there, and Sir Knight was still slightly injured from her own battle with their King, even though it had been some time since then. Her wounds were healing well, but the after effects of the spell she had spent the last few centuries under were slowing it down. If a true god was the enemy then King Kusanagi was the most sensible choice of those that remained.

"Gotcha," The seventh Campione simply nodded his head in acceptance. "Just let me give the girls a call. If I don't let them know what's happening none of them are going to be very happy with me when things settle down."

"What of your allies? Do you think any of them would be able to aid against the smaller threats?"

The dark haired teen paused for a moment, his expression contemplative, then he nodded.

"Erica, Liliana and Ena can probably take them on, each of them is strong, and Erica and Liliana have been training in some new magic that they think should be able to make them stronger. Yuri doesn't have any front line abilities though, she's best on support."

"Her King nodded again, then looked down at the golden city behind him.

"Alright, I think I've got an idea. Here's what I think we should do."


-()-


Hunger, it was the only word that existed in her mind at that moment. That need, that emptiness, it consumed her every thought and emotion to the point that nothing else mattered.

The meat before was struggling, but it had already been broken when she found it, and it had not been hard to break it some more. Before long it had been too broken to move around much, and she had set aside the length of not-food that she'd been using to break it and had settled down to eat. The first mouthful of the meat had been pure ecstasy, the feel of it as it slid down her throat and settled into her growling stomach pure relief, pure bliss.

But then the hunger had returned, and she'd had to tear off another mouthful. The meat was moving more now, and out of the swamp of need and desperation that clouded her thought came the notion that maybe she should break it some more. After all, if it was completely broken then there was no more chance of it moving more, and she could eat in peace.

There was a noise behind her, and instinctively she seized the not-food stick as she whirled to confront whatever had made the sound. Her meat, HERS! She would not allow any to steal it from her, not while she was still so hungry, not when there was still so much meat there! Even as her jaws worked at the flesh between her teeth her eyes scanned the shadows for whatever it was that had alerted her.

THERE!

She saw movement, but it was just a small meat, one of the fast ones that were too hard to catch. Before she had tried to catch one, but that had been before she found this larger broken meat. Such thoughts didn't cross her mind though. Instead, as soon as she saw that there was no further impediment to her feeding, she turned around and began to gorge once more. Or at least she tried to. Though the meat was broken and not moving so much its meat was still tough, hard for her to pull apart with just her fingers and teeth. She'd been able to get some off, but it was still not enough, not to satiate the hunger burning within her-

Again a noise cut off her simplistic thoughts, but this time it was not scratching in the dark, or something so simple as a small meat moving around. This time the sound was of collapsing brickwork and tumbling stones. The roar of a building breaking up as something smashed into it. Had the woman been more in control of herself she might have looked upwards, into the sky, as something bright and silvery flashed by above her. She did not though. Because the hunger had consumed such sentiments as curiosity or wonder. All that was left was the urge to slake her overwhelming appetite.

However even in her state it was impossible to not react when one of the nearby buildings suddenly exploded.

The blast threw both her meat and her skidding to the side. She'd been shielded from the full brunt of the explosion, but even so the force had been enough to rattle her teeth and send her body tumbling as though struck by a giant invisible hand.

She snarled as she forced herself back to her hands and knees, fury joining the hunger for a brief moment as she glared around in search of something to vent her anger upon. Then she saw the meat once more, and anger was swallowed up by hunger. She didn't hesitate; her teeth sank into the meat once more as she tried to tear off another piece. In the distance she could hear more sounds, something that might have been called the roar of an animal, if said animal had internal organs composed of rusted metal and shattered glass. It was a screech that on any other day would have driven the blood from her face and made her run in terror.

Today though, it was just sound, sound a long way off that didn't matter to her. instead her focus was on the meat, on biting through it, on swallowing it, on moving on to the next gobbet that she could gnaw off the still moaning-

The sound, the screeching, in the background suddenly cut off with an almost discordant suddenness. For a moment it was as though the world was trying to reorient itself to the abrupt loss, then other sounds resumed. Well, that was of no importance to her. She had meat and she . . .

She had meat and . . .

She had meat . . .

She . . . she had . . . meat?

Omishi Makoto shook her head as she tried to clear it. What . . . what had that been? She'd just been walking back home after a night out with the other girls from work when-

What . . . what was this taste in her mouth? Had she bitten her tongue? Was that why all she could taste was blood? Shaking her head she tried to clear her blurred vision even as the questions swarmed in her head. Closing her eyes she tried to centre herself, give her eyes a chance to catch up as the sounds of the world washed over her.

There were sirens, lots of them. Whether they were for the police or the fire service she wasn't too sure, but the fact that she could even hear something like three distinct sets at the very least spoke to how grave the situation must be. Was that it? Had she been caught in some sort of gas explosion as she was walking home? Well, that would explain a great deal.

Opening her eyes Makoto watched the world swim back into focus . . . and bit back a scream at what she saw before her.

There was a man lying against the wall of the alley she was in. If she had to guess she would have placed him in his forties, his clothing was that of a man in a well paying job, and she could see an expensive looking watch strapped to his left wrist. This was all peripheral though, because the vast majority of her attention was focused on other details.

Such as his face, that looked as though it had been clawed up by a wild animal. No, that didn't seem vicious enough. The man's face was a ruin, part of his nose literally hanging from his face by only a few scraps of flesh. One of his cheeks had been torn so badly she was sure she could catch flashes of white teeth through the hole. One eye was a bloody mess, and the other one was so coated in blood that she wasn't sure if it was still there or not under the drying gore.

That was the most immediately visible of his injuries, but there were others. The fingers of his left hand were visibly broken, bent in ways that left no doubt as to their ruined nature. There were no other obviously broken bones, but the way he was clutching his arms close to his body suggested he was hurt there as well. Makoto was looking at his legs when she saw a sight that made the bile rise up in her throat.

The right leg of his trousers had been torn open to reveal the pale and slightly hairy flesh beneath. This wasn't so bad, what was terrible though was the torn up mess that had once been his right upper thigh. The massive wound there was a ragged bloody affair that looked as though something had literally ripped chunks out of him. How it had managed to avoid the major arteries in his leg she had no idea, but from the way the man was moaning and twitching it left no doubt as to just how much pain he was in.

How . . . ? What had done this? This wasn't the result of any gas explosion, or anything like that; those wounds were the result of deliberate work, so what . . . ?

Hungry, so very hungry. Need food, any food, must have it, now!

Meat, there was meat! Break the meat! Take the meat!

Feed! Bite! Satiate the hunger!

Meat, sooooo good.

Oh. Oh, dear god!

She looked down at her hands, her blood covered hands. Blood that wasn't hers. Manicured nails that still had scraps of flesh stuck under them, glued there by more drying blood! What about that taste in her mouth, had she really bitten her tongue, or had she . . .

With trembling fingers she reached into her mouth, felt for something she could feel caught on one of her teeth, and pulled it out. It wasn't big, even though it had felt enormous in her mouth, it was only the size of her little finger nail. Still, it wasn't hard to tell what it was, not with the distinctive goose bump pattern on it, not with the couple of hairs that had somehow held on. It wasn't hard to tell it was a piece of human skin.

She barely had time to turn away as her stomach rebelled as the realization hit her. Vomit surged up her throat and splattered across the alley floor. Vomit that was tinged red and littered with small lumps of pink flesh that had been barely chewed before they'd been swallowed. Simply the sight of it was enough to make her insides clench up again, but this time there was nothing left to throw up; instead she just collapsed to her knees, her chest heaving as she tried to get her breath under control.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god . . ."

The entreaty for some sort of divine aid was repeated again and again as she just knelt there, her body not so much shivering with shock as it was twitching. Her mind was in no better state, unable to move from the realization of what she had done. That was how she was when two new men walked into the alley. She was only vaguely aware of them, her mind unable to process what she was hearing, even though she was taking it in.

"There's another one here." One of them said. "No, make that two. One of them seems to be in a pretty bad way, broken bones and some pretty nasty mauling."

"Got it, I'm calling it in now." The other replied, his words accompanied by some beeping as he worked some electronic device.

"It looks like she's in shock; it must have hit her pretty hard when the spirit died."

"Knock her out," the second man suggested. "There're some agents coming to do some healing and modify their memories. It'll be better for her if she's out it when they get here. I mean, just look at this. If I found out I'd done something like this I'd be ready to claw my own brain out if it meant being able to forget."

She heard the words, but they had as much meaning to her as the chittering of insects might. All she could do was just kneel there, her eyes focused upon the globules of flesh that she'd regurgitated.

"Don't worry; soon enough this won't even be a bad dream. It'll all just be gone, nothing to worry about because it never happened."

There was a slight pressure as someone placed a hand on her head. Then there was nothing as she fell into blissful unconsciousness.


-()-


Lancelot shook her lance, dislodging the final fragments of black flesh that clung to it, even as those same fragments began to dissolve into dark mist that in turn faded into nothing. Glancing down the warrior goddess took a moment to look at the monster she had just fought, committing its appearance to memory before its physical form faded away in its entirety.

The creature had been a strange mixture of gross obesity and painful gauntness. Its form was vaguely manlike, in that it had legs, arms and a torso with it's head on top, but that was where the similarities ended. The limbs had been all out of proportion, the arms and legs too long, too thin, the hands and feet were not even functional for walking upon or manipulating objects, instead they were closer to blades or flippers. The neck also extended further than it should, and the head upon it was even less human than the rest of it.

The head was monstrous, something that seemed to be nothing but vast gaping jaws attached to a skull that seemed too small to hold them. Massive rows of teeth encircled a mouth that seemed designed to engulf and crush anything. The mouth was connected to a snake-like throat that led to a vastly distended stomach. That belly was huge in a way that went beyond purely biological limits, a massively engorged sack of meat and skin that seemed to be clinging to the rest of the monster like some sort of parasitic tumour. This image was enhanced by the rest of the creature; everything else about it was skeletally thin, gaunt in the way of a famine victim.

To top it all off, the beast would have been more than sixty feet tall had it ever stood, but since it crawled about on its hands and knees it never reached half that. This creature had been a monster from nightmares, a being that could have driven the more tremulous to flee in fear before it.

This was hunger, starvation, desperate cannibalism, the loss of reason and sanity to appetite and the craving for food. It was all of these things incarnate, a divine curse given form.

"Not a bad battle, but the final boss of Bloodline Hunters was far more of a challenge!"

Lancelot voiced her opinion of the beast as she dismounted her dear mount and stepped closer to the dissolving form of the curse beast that she'd just slain. Around her were the ruins of the apartment complex the monster had been hiding in, and amidst the rubble were the remains of its victims.

That was a sight that served to dampen the divine knight's high spirits. The sight of so many dead was a sign that she had not been fast enough, that she had taken too long to locate her foe and to finish him off.

The beast had originally been of much smaller stature than it had become, of that Lancelot was sure. She had encountered such monsters as this before, though never one quite so potent. They fed upon whatever they were attuned to, using that emotion or action to grow stronger, and the stronger they became the more they could influence the mortals around them, a self-feeding loop. It was a dangerous cycle that could produce true abominations, some of which she had fought in the past.

Fortunately such creatures were often limited in how much they could grow. Once they reached a certain level they could advance no further, leaving a clear limitation to their strength.

This creature had been very strong though, and it had grown quickly. Even before Lancelot had arrived, almost every resident of the building had been dead, the victims of the insatiable hunger that had not been theirs, but which had overtaken them none-the-less. When she had arrived the monster had still been in its phantasmal form, hiding within the complex, a ghost that had begun small, but had swollen in size as its power and range grew. When she had attacked it had gained solidity in order to fight, though it had done the monster little good.

Lancelot was a goddess, and a powerful one at that. Granted, she knew she had not the divine might that the likes of Tiamat or Athena would wield at their full height of power, but she made up for that with skill and mettle. This Monster, strong though it had been, had been brittle, its strength unsettled and tempered by time. The battle had been fierce but brief, and eventually it had fallen to her lance.

Still, in order to make the fight as short as it had been she had needed to have Steadfast place all his strength into the final charge. It had proven effective, but it would be a short time until her steed had recovered enough to bear her once more. Still the time it would take for him to regain his strength was shorter than it would have been to slay the evil spirit beast had she not used her greatest strength.

"You!"

Her voice cracked like a whip as she pointed at one of the mortal agents that were working upon the scene. The poor man in question froze in place, his expression rather akin to a rabbit that had just realized it had drawn the attention of a very hungry wolf.

"Where is the next of these beasts located?"

The agent practically sagged in relief as he realized that the warrior deity was not about to demand his immediate subservience or death.

"Lady Lancelot, there are a number of reported outbreaks at locations that correspond to the information sent to us by King Emiya. Honoured Tiamat, Lady Guinevere, and King Kusanagi's knights have been deployed to the most severe, and King Kusanagi himself has targeted the concentration of the strongest signals. That still leaves several that have yet to be reached, however they aren't as immediately urgent."

The mortal agent of the local mages association seemed to slip into a habitual professionalism as he answered the goddess' question. It was something that the War Goddess could respect, but there was a slight issue with it.

"Remember to address this knight as 'Sir'!" she stated, waving a finger at the agent in mild castigation. From the way he flinched back she might as well have been waving her lance at him, but she supposed that even a single finger could be intimidating when it was that of a deity. "Now, tell this knight of these other locations, and why they are less urgent than . . . this."

As she made the request Lancelot looked around the ruined remains of the apartment complex. Not too far off she could see the remains of a young boy no older than four or five mortal years. So young, too young to have been lost. The Knight of the Lake was not someone that was entirely sympathetic to the mortals that had once worshipped her. It was hard to given that she had existed when they had first been learning how to craft saddles for their horses. Compared to her endless centuries their tiny lives seemed to be like sparks off flint, there and then gone so fast. So rarely did they blaze brightly enough to capture her attention, so rarely were they worth any notice. If they ended a bit earlier, then it didn't really make much difference, that was how it seemed at times.

Things were somewhat different now, after she'd become King Shirou's knight. He placed value on his subjects, and as such it was her duty to protect them, but there was a bit more to it as well. Mortals were the ones that had created those games that she so enjoyed. Mortals were those that she enjoyed playing with on the internet. Mortals were those funny young men that kept on begging for her to come back for another photo shoot. Of late mortals had become a good deal more real to her than they had been in . . . far too long.

That boy, who could he have been if he'd had a few more years to grow? Would he have been one of the young men that wanted her to dress up as her fantasy counterpart? Would he have become one of those that create the games she liked? Would he have come to serve her King, had he grown to show some sort of mystic talent? There was no way to know now, because the potential of his life had been cut off so cruelly.

And for what?

No, Lancelot could understand the point of these distractions, she could see what their aim was, that was easy enough. Their foes aimed to scatter them, to ensure that they could not bring their full strength to bear upon the foe. Given that the deities behind this attack had taken the time to kidnap young Illya before the battle began, and had then gone on to so brazenly display her after the monsters were unleashed, it strongly hinted that her older brother was the target of this whole thing.

Their foe sought to deprive the King of Steel of the support that he had built up around himself without really trying, and that was worrying.

Lancelot knew she was no great strategist, but she had served those that were. Artur, when he had battled the Campione that had turned ancient Europe into their personal playground, had needed to face not only the God Slayers themselves, but also the forces they had been able to raise. To be sure, as a god he could annihilate entire armies if he so chose, but doing so could tax his endurance, even if only slightly, and when entering battle with a Devil King such factors could be important. Likewise those forces, if supplemented with divine servants of one sort or another; the armies could not simply be ignored. If they had attacked him during a battle with the Campione commanding them then it would be almost as bad. Clashes between those with the power of gods was not a place where distractions were welcome, a moment's inattention could be lethal if the foe was quick and cunning.

Artur had been not simply powerful, he had also been brilliant. He had been served by mortals and gods alike, and he had known how to deploy them to make the best use of their abilities. The armies of his enemies had been broken before they had ever reached him, and their masters had often faced him tired and alone as a result. The Knight of the Lake had witnessed him at work, and she had learnt at least something of his methods, even if she never had the drive to attempt the same herself.

This peeling away of his allies so that her new King would stand alone, it resembled something that Artur might have employed. Well, at least in function. The King That Appears at the End of the World would never have stooped to tactics like this. Targeting the innocent, those uninvolved in the battle, it was beneath him. That had been part of why the mortals of ancient Britannia had hailed him as their King and God, because out of all those that wielded the power of a deity he was the only one that had cared. Another similarity between him and the war goddess' current King.

"Sir Lancelot, another of these beasts has been confirmed in Shibuya, this one looks less violent, but still very dangerous."

"Oh, inform this knight as to its nature!"

There was a pause as the agent that had addressed her spoke into his communication device. The slight delay grated on Lancelot's nerves, but it was a minor thing. As though sensing his mistress' irritation Steadfast leaned down and nuzzled her cheek. This brought a smile to her lips as she reached up to gently stroke his mane. This was not something that her steed would have done only months ago, back then the mount would have just stood there, as animated as a statue and about as affectionate. Since she had followed King Shirou's advice and named him Steadfast had become so much more alive that it was astounding. Still, she had no objections to it; she far preferred her mount as he was to the weapon he had once been.

"Sir Lancelot, I have the information you wanted."

"Very well, tell me of the nature of my next enemy."

"It looks like the monster is similar to this one in that it is based upon a desire or emotion," The agent stated, waving at the devastation that surrounded them. "Unlike this one though people are not acting violently around it, instead they're just . . . stopping. Whatever they're doing they just stop and stay wherever they are, they sit or lie down, and then they just don't move. There've been a few accidents, mainly from drivers that have entered the effect and then lost control of their cars as they stop driving, but aside form that there's been very little actual harm. Agents that have entered the area report that they feel an extreme lack of motivation, even with the warding spells they're using to protect themselves. We've tentatively named it as Lethargy, but we are unsure if that's the limit of its abilities."

Lancelot nodded, then turned to mount up on Steadfast.

"I shall soon learn its nature, when I face it in battle. King Shirou has charged me with the protection of his subjects, and this knight would be a disgrace to her title were she to be derelict in her duty."

She paused for a moment, staring at the bodies lying about her.

"This knight was unable to arrive swiftly enough to save these poor souls. Please make sure that they are well treated and made ready for their loved ones."

It was a poor substitute for their lives, but it was all that she could offer as things stood. These were the subjects of her King, even if they didn't know it, and as his knight it was her duty to follow the code of chivalry for them.

"Understood!"

The mortal agent seemed to be almost ready to salute her, Lancelot noted with mild amusement. It would seem that even protected as he was by the spells about him her martial charisma still affected him. Strange, it had been so long since she had interacted with mortals like this that she had almost forgotten she possessed it. Still, once she had been a queen in her own right, a ruler of amazons and the early tribes that had seen the advantages of horsemanship, and it would seem that her mantle of royalty had not totally deserted her. Not an unpleasant thought.

Her heels nudged at Steadfast's flanks, and in the next moment her steed was galloping into the sky, clouds and lightning about his hooves giving him easy purchase to tread upon.

Now, on to her next foe.


-()-


Erica stood next to Liliana and tried to catch her breath.

No, that was too generous of a description. It would be more accurate to say that the two mage knights were barely managing to support each other as their chests heaved in an attempt to suck in enough air to slow their pounding hearts.

Still, though she disliked the state to which she had been reduced, the Knight of the King of Disaster felt that it was well earned. After all, how many mortals who were not Campione could claim to have faced a divine spirit and managed to defeat it? Not very many at all, and that was the god's honest truth.

The monster they had found had been an incarnation of greed and avarice. The mortals under its influence had gone into frenzies of hoarding, each of them trying to gain as much as they could. This had quickly turned ugly as they realized that the best way to swell their pile of possessions was to take what others already had. Before long those under its spell had begun to murder each other as they tried to satiate the greed gnawing at them. It hadn't been quite as animalistically brutal as the work of the hunger spirit that Sir Lancelot had been sent to slay, but there was a viciousness and cruelty to what they had seen that had been something of a shock to the Italian mage knight.

Erica considered herself to be a pretty worldly young woman. She had faced the divine spirits of gods before, had seen the results of the power of the gods gone rampant. She had dealt with criminal mages in the past, even taken part in breaking up a human trafficking ring that had been the work of a magic user employing mental manipulation. She had seen much of humanity, both the best and the worst. All that being said, what she'd had to see tonight had been in a class of its own.

"Well . . . I . . . think . . . that's . . . it . . ."

Liliana's panted words were enough to draw the Diavolo Rosso away from her rather grim thoughts and back to the matter at hand. Yes, the scenery was not the beautiful backdrop she would have preferred, but that did not detract from the splendour of what she had achieved with the aid of her ally.

They had defeated . . . no, they had SLAIN a divine beast. Granted, it was no Heretic God, and there was no chance of them being elevated to the status of Campione, but that didn't change the fact that it was a beast of divine origin. Normally it was only possible for Heretic Gods or Campione to slay them. There had been times in history when an alliance of mortal mages had been able to destroy them, but that had been small armies of spellcasters working together, normally acting as backup to a single mage of outstanding power. This time it had been just them, the Diavolo Rosso and the Blue Knight, the sworn swords of the Seventh Campione.

It had not been easy, not by any stretch of the imagination. Indeed, it had been damned near impossible. The monster they had faced had been bloated upon the avarice it had harvested, great in size and strength. They had been strong as well though, fine examples of the power mortals could learn to wield with talent and determination. Their weapons had drunk of their power, and so had been strong enough to pierce the beast, to cut it, to damage it, but that had not been enough to overcome its immortality. Minor though its divinity might have been it still possessed the protection of the divine, and that immortality was enough to keep them from being able to strike a finishing blow. Under other circumstances the best that they'd have been able to achieve would have been to drive the beast off, so it could lick its wounds, feed on more innocents and then return. But this had not been the case.

Not since they had learnt the Sacred Privilege of Extermination.

It had been shortly after the entire mess with Emiya Shirou facing Alexander Gascoigne. Erica had learnt of it early, along with the fallout of Sir Lancelot having sworn herself into the King of Steel's service, as well as Guinevere having also switched her allegiance to the eighth Campione. The knight of the Copper-Black Cross did not begrudge her beloved's fellow God Slayer strengthening his position by acquiring more servants, but she would have been a poor knight indeed if she did not see to strengthening her own king's hand. She'd already made plans to draw Athena to their side, mad as some might have thought the prospect of seducing a goddess like that. Still, she had absolute faith in Godou's ability to charm women, his aptitude for it was almost enough to distress her, after all.

Regardless, that had been a longer term plan, and in the short term Godou had needed more firepower at his side.

That was why she'd dragged Liliana with her on a trip back to their home country of Italy. For others her age, such a trip would have been a major undertaking, but for a girl that could call upon the resources of the Copper-Black Cross association it had been of minimal difficulty. She and her friend had left on Friday evening, and had managed to return in time to be ready for classes come Monday morning. Granted, the weekend had been about as far from restful as you could get, but the efforts they had expended had been more than worthwhile in view of what they had attained.

The objective of their journey had been the Sixth Campione Salvatore Doni, the King of Swords. Erica had recently learnt of a certain grimoire that he'd been tasked with safeguarding. Technically he should not have let her come anywhere close to it, let alone let her read it, given the power that the secrets within it could impart. He shouldn't have, but he did anyway. Honestly she was somewhat concerned that anyone had been so foolish as to think that anything in the care of the idiot genius was in any way secure. All she'd needed to do was say that she wanted to improve her abilities to ensure that Godou had more power at his disposal and he'd waved her on to go ahead. Hells, he'd even encouraged Liliana to do likewise.

Well, his massive irresponsibility aside, the outcome had been to their advantage. The grimoire had contained knowledge of the Sacred Privilege of Extermination, one of the most powerful of European magics, and the trump card that she'd been seeking to gain. Once invoked the rite allowed the user to increase the potency of their magic many times over, increasing the power of both spells and physical abilities by orders of magnitude. Erica wasn't quite certain, but she was confident that while employing it her own strength would rise to the point where she would be able to match Ena while she was employing Divine Possession to borrow her 'grandfather's' power.

It had certainly proven effective here, using the rite had allowed them to increase the power of her Golgatha spell and Liliana's Song of the Bow to the point where they'd finally been able to cut and pierce the immortality of the beast that they had faced.

They had done it! They had slain a divine beast!

The thought repeated in her head again and again, despite her best efforts. Were she any less controlled in her poise and demeanour then she had no doubt that she'd have been grinning like a maniac. As it was she allowed herself a small smile as her breathing finally started to come under control.

"We . . . we did it . . . Erica, we . . . did it!"

Her friend seemed to feel far less restrained as a full blown grin split her face. It might have looked a bit more impressive if the fairy-like girl wasn't using her legendary weapon as a crutch to remain standing, but given the situation such a lapse was forgivable.

"Indeed we did, Lili," A mischievous thought occurred to the blonde mage knight, and her smile grew slightly as she continued. "Godou is going to be so proud when he hears of this; do you think he might reward us?"

"Reward us?" For her part Liliana sounded more confused than interested, but Erica had expected as much.

"Of course! We have just succeeded in vanquishing a divine beast, surely he'll see that such is worthy of notice. And as we are his loyal knights isn't it only natural that he would seek to reward such efforts? No doubt he will expend all efforts in ensuring we receive whatever it is we desire of him."

"Whatever we desire . . ."

Honestly, if it weren't so amusing Erica might have felt guilty over just how easy it was to mess with her friend. Liliana was pretty much the only other mage knight of her generation that the Diavolo Rosso accepted as a true rival. In all modesty Erica regarded herself as the more intellectually gifted of the two, but if she was a scientist with her magic, then Liliana was an artist. Her skill and understanding of the subtle flows of magic were better than Erica's, and she was also better at longer range attacks with that bow of hers. Still, for all her virtues she did have a weakness, one that the blonde mage knight knew of and had no problem with ruthlessly exploiting for her own ends.

Liliana was a hopeless romantic.

Erica could actually see the moment when the implications of what she'd said hit the silver haired girl and her imagination kicked in. Her eyes grew just a touch glassy as her attention shifted from the outside world to whatever fantasy was percolating inside her brain. Oh, it wasn't as though she was insensate to the world or anything like that, anyone that tried to attack her in this state would quickly learn that to their detriment. Still, until something happened that would draw her attention Liliana was lost in her daydreams.

The golden haired mage knight allowed herself another smile as she mentally made a note to ensure that Karen provided her with a copy of whatever the Bronze-Black Cross knight wrote in her novel over the next couple of days. No doubt it would be . . . inspired to say the least.

"Blandelli-san, our thanks for coming. I-I never thought that you'd actually be able to slay the monster. Drive it off, yes, but not slay it."

Erica saw the admiration, near idol worship, in the agent's eyes and allowed herself a surge of pride. She had felt somewhat slighted when the History Compilation Committee had chosen to swear their allegiance to Shirou rather than Godou. Yes, she had been able to understand their reasons for doing so, but she'd still felt as though she and her King had been passed over unfairly. This, the near reverence being directed at her by not only this agent but also by the others nearby, let her know that even if the Committee hadn't chosen them then Godou's 'court' at least still commanded considerable respect from them.

Rather than replying she simply nodded to the agent, waiting for him to continue.

"We . . . ah, we have word that Ena-sama was successful in slaying the beast she was sent to face. Lancelot-sama has also slain one monster and is moving to kill another. Tiamat-sama has dealt with one and is currently engaged in combat with another near to the harbour. Guinevere-sama is hunting one in the entertainment district, but is having trouble pinning it down. Um, Godou-sama and Yuri-san are moving to intercept the divine signature that is being accompanied by two more of the beasts. Shirou-sama . . . we don't actually know where he is at the moment, but he said he was going to retrieve his sister."

Erica did a quick bit of mental math. That meant that three of the monsters were dead, and three more either were locked in battle or at least soon would be. The message from Godou had said that there were something like fifteen of these monsters to deal with, though some of them seemed to be less active than others. If that was the case, then they were about a fifth of the way through killing them all, at best.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked to the dissolving form of the bloated centipede-like thing they had killed. This whole situation was spiralling out of control faster than she was comfortable with. Granted, Godou seemed to be able to thrive in chaos, and the same could be said of Shirou as well, but as things stood the odds were sliding inexorably against them.

She silently nodded her thanks to the agent, then turned her focus inwards as he left.

How much strength remained to her? Both the spells she had used had been of the absolute highest rank and as such were not without their costs. It wasn't simply a matter of how much of her magical energy was used up, there as also the strain they put on her body. Erica was the product of generations of individuals being married into her family to strengthen the bloodline, not to mention the recipient of just as many generations of accumulated knowledge. She was one of the world's great examples of the progress of modern magic users.

That said, she was not a Campione, and she couldn't handle those levels of power without burning herself out. If she wanted to keep this up she was going to have to be careful in how she paced herself. That said, she was fairly sure she was good for another fight yet, maybe even two if she was careful. Liliana was most likely in better shape than she was, given that her spells lacked the bite Erica's did, but they were also a bit lighter on the amount of magic they consumed. The question was what they should do now, try and hunt down another monster, or should they try to join up with Godou to support him against whatever deity he was about to face off with?

Hmmm, as things stood the only one of their 'court' that was accompanying the seventh Campione was Yuri. If everything went ideally then she would observe the Heretic God Godou would be fighting, learn enough about their identity that she could pass the knowledge on to him so he could use the Warrior Incarnation to sever their divinity. After that victory should come easily enough.

Unless it didn't, of course.

There were so many things that could go wrong that it wasn't even funny. When dealing with unknown gods there were simply too many unknown variables to plan for properly, especially for someone like Godou, whose Authority, or at least a great many of them, depended upon certain conditions to work. Yuri was a tremendous asset in this, which was the reason why Erica had been willing to accept her as a mistress for Godou when they first met, but she was also a fragile target. Erica, Liliana, Ena, all of them could take the sort of punishment that would normally leave a mortal crippled and shake it off, but Yuri was far less hardy. What magic she knew was focused upon supporting her Spirit Vision, as well as some healing and information transfer, nothing with much combat application.

She was certain that Godou would do his best to keep her safe, but for all his power the boy that had somehow captured her heart was still human, and in the thick of battle it was all too easy for mistakes to take place. She knew that all too well.

No, it was probably best that she and Liliana move to support them. Tiamat and Lancelot seemed to be tearing through these beasts faster than any mortals could, so leaving it to them was probably the smarter option. If they could take out the Heretic God that had summoned all of these monster in the first place then there was a chance that they'd just dissipate or unsummon once the god was slain.

"Alright, Liliana, it's time to go."

Even as she said the words Erica was pulling out her cell phone to contact Arianna. Her maid might be a horribly reckless driver, but she'd be able to get them where they wanted to go fast. Granted, the pair of mage knights could probably have gotten there faster by using their magic, but that would drain them of precious mystic stamina that they would most likely need later. Yes, it probably would be best to brave her driving again. She tapped in a quick text message, letting her maid know where they were and what they needed. The blonde mage knight estimated that it would only take her friend a handful of minutes to arrive, then they'd be off.

"Alright Lili, I've told Arianne to come and give us a lift. She should be here soon."

Erica paused for a moment, fully expecting her fellow knight to voice some sort of objection. Liliana was no coward or weak of stomach, but even she voiced complaints when having to endure the wild rollercoaster that Arianne could turn even a casual drive to school into. As such the member of the Copper-Black Cross was a bit surprised when no complaint was immediately forthcoming.

Turning to look at her fellow knight again Erica saw that Liliana was still staring off into space, but now her face was touched by a light blush, and she seemed to be gently chewing on her lower lip.

"Liliana? Hello?"

Rather than respond the silver haired witchcraft user instead let out a slight giggle.

"Maybe we shouldn't . . . no, but are you sure . . . ?"

It took much of Erica's carefully cultivated poise not to roll her eyes as she listened to her friend's mumbled words. Really, Liliana might be an excellent magic user and an equally talented knight, but this tendency of hers to drift away into her fantasies whenever she got 'inspired' was really something that she'd have to look into dealing with.

"Lili! Hey, Lili!"

"I . . . I'M NOT MENTALLY PREPARED!"

This time Erica couldn't help it, she really did roll her eyes as her friend came out of her daydream.

"Lili . . . maybe when this whole mess has been dealt with we should see to you spending some time with Godou so that you can learn the difference between reality and dreams."

Blushing the silver haired knight began to stutter out some sort of explanation, but Erica wasn't listening. She already had her mind on the next step of the battle. Getting to Godou's side was the best call, she was sure of it. The only question was whether they'd be able to bring this assault to an end before the city was reduced to a mass grave.


-()-


Shirou didn't like the way things were progressing, but he didn't really have too much of an option in the matter.

He knew he was more or less walking into his enemy's plan, but even though he could see it he couldn't think of a way out of it. Oh sure, he knew what it was that he wanted to do, he wanted to gather all his allies in one spot, descend upon Illya and make sure she was safe. Once that was out of the way he could see about protecting the rest of the city. That was what he wanted, but he knew it wasn't the right approach. How many people might die in the time he left those lesser divinities rampaging? How much damage might they do? How many lives was he prepared to sacrifice for his adopted sister?

He'd looked inside himself as he'd faced that choice, and he wasn't happy with what he had found. For so long he'd been desperate to save someone, anyone, to be hero of justice in place of Kiritsugu, to give him living when so may others didn't some sort of meaning. Now though, now he was more focused on those close to him than on the nameless masses, that had been the decision he made when he chose to stand by Sakura.

Even so, he couldn't just leave them to die, not when he could offer aid. Yes, he could have brought some back up, such as Tiamat or Lancelot, but he had chosen not to because he was worried about pushing things.

Snow's hooves made a slight clatter on the pavement as he came down, his wings furling at his sides and allowed Shirou to slip off his back.

"Thanks, Snow, thanks."

The Emiya heir murmured the words as he stroked the side of the pegasus' neck, even as his eyes fell on the entrance to the park where Illya waited for him. The divine steed leaned back into his hand, snorting as though he were demanding more attention. A slight smile touched Shirou's face, but then he patted the beast firmly.

"Okay, now go do like we planned."

There was another snort at his words, and the winged horse took a step back so that his brown eyes could meet those of his master. There was something there, concern, even a touch of defiance, a reluctance to leave his rider's side.

"I know, Snow, I know, but it's got to be this way."

His answer was a whinny this time, followed by another short, this one so forceful that it the steed's lips seemed to flap with the force of it. Shirou could understand at least some of his mount's reluctance. His orders to his steed had been for the pegasus to fly up to the top of one of the buildings overlooking the park, and then to wait there until his master called for him. The idea was that he would be close enough that the eighth Campione could call on him if needed, but far away enough that his being there wouldn't serve to escalate whatever situation Shirou might find when he went in to get Illya.

The winged steed had made no effort to hide his dislike of the plan the whole way here since it had been told to him, snorting and dipping in the air to show his discontent. It didn't take a genius with horses to tell Snow wanted to stay with him. Honestly, Shirou would have preferred that he was there, if nothing else he could throw Illya onto his back and have the pegasus get her out of there at the kinds of speeds that were normally reserved for high spec military aircraft.

The problem was that he didn't know what he was going to find when he got there. He didn't know who his enemy would be; he didn't know what manner the coming battle was to be fought in. He didn't even know if there was going to be a battle. Even worse, he didn't even know what the situation with Illya was. She was there on her own, at least that was what the agents that had reported to him had seen, but if she was on her own then why hadn't she run? Why hadn't she come back home? Was Illya really on her own? Had she been accompanied by her kidnapper under some sort of concealment? There was so much that he was unsure of.

If she was on her own but hadn't left or contacted him then the most obvious reason was some sort of compulsion, such as a geass to restrict her movements, or some sort of mental enchantment to make her a willing participant. None of the potential causes were good, and he was forced to remember his own encounter with Venus. The thought that his adopted sister might be facing something similar was enough to make his blood boil, but he forced the heat down, and instead tried to keep his thoughts as cool and even as he could.

Whoever had taken Illya, they had let her go here, for whatever reason, in such a way that it was certain he would learn of it. He knew something was off, the reaction of Mini City Guide, the descriptions from those that had seen her, everything else that was going on, it all made it pretty clear that whoever had taken her hadn't just let her go. This was a trap, and more than that, it was a trap that wasn't pretending to be anything other than a trap. It didn't have to, given that he had no choice other than to enter it.

Certainly, he had a number of options as to how to go in there. He could try to be sneaky, he could try to be diplomatic, or he could charge in there on Snow' back, clad in his Champion's Armour and wielding the most powerful Noble Phantasm he could Trace. The problem was that he wasn't sure how the trap would react, how sharp its jaws were, what form they would take. Would a cage of magic and divine power snap up to trap him, forcing him to face whichever god was behind this? Would Illya be snatched away by some sort of teleportation once he was there? Would the entire park erupt into an explosion as soon as he showed himself? There was no way he could be sure.

Escalation, he had to avoid it as much as he could, it was the best of a number of bad options, but it was what he had to work with. By showing up as he was, unarmoured and not overtly using any of his Authorities, he hoped to . . . keep things from going off too quickly. He had no doubt that the trap would be sprung, but with any luck he could buy a few extra moments by being like this. If not, well, he had some of the deadliest Noble Phantasms in his arsenal ready and waiting to be brought into play. He'd also become quite good at invoking Dragon Slaying Hero without the use of spell words. It wasn't ideal, but he was far from helpless. And if worst came to the worst then there was Snow nearby, either as a getaway, or as an Anti-Fortress level attack ready to be dropped on an enemy.

Of course, once he got hold of Illya things would change. Once he was sure it wouldn't do anything like trigger a killing curse on her he was going to wrap her in the Steel For the Legion, then get Dragon Slaying Hero going, and prepare to drown anyone that got in his way in every curse he could summon up. Then he'd ride off on Snow, leave Illya with Lancelot and Tiamat to guard her while he went off to rain bloody vengeance on the forces attacking the city.

First, though, he had to find her, and that meant walking into the enemy's trap. Steeling himself, and bringing several Noble Phantasms to the forefront of his mind he made his way to the main gates of the park, stepping into enemy territory.

That was no general expression either; instead it was a statement of fact. Just then, with one step he knew that he had set foot upon an area that had been prepared, something like a Bounded Field had been set up here, but it felt different from the magecraft he was familiar with. This felt heavier, deeper, stronger. With a Bounded Field, at least as he was familiar with them, the effects of the spells were imposed upon the area that they were meant to affect, the mystical network of energies being set up like a framework built one an area. This . . . this was different, rather than something being built over the area, it was instead as though the area itself had been changed.

It wasn't quite Territory Creation, and it certainly wasn't something as profound as a Reality Marble, but it did surpass what Shirou knew of traditional magecraft. This was an effect that certain Noble Phantasms might have been similar to, Rider's Blood Fort Andromeda for example. But its nature was of a different order, and from what he could tell it was aimed specifically at him.

Maybe it was targeted at all Campione, or maybe it was simply meant to affect any divine power other than that which its creator had designated as free of it. The King of Steel could feel it pressing down on him like some sort of sodden blanket, leeching the heat from his veins, the strength from his limbs. It was also affecting the flow of prana in his body, the presence heavy upon him, stifling almost. It wasn't a powerful effect, but it was noticeable, and what was worse was that he wasn't entirely sure what it would do. In a battle with a god even a minor handicap could prove to be deadly if it threw him off enough, and unknowns had a bad habit of throwing things off at the worst times.

Internally he began to push on his prana, getting it to flow just a little bit faster than it would naturally. The exercise was one that EMIYA had been taught by Rin, a simple method of giving his Magic Circuits a 'workout' without doing anything too strenuous. It helped, slightly, but he could still feel the pressure there, and he still wasn't entirely sure what it was intended to do. For a moment he considered experimenting, using magecraft or Authorities to see what effect it might have. His enemy undoubtedly already knew he was here, so there would be little risk of him giving his position away.

No, too risky, he decided. He still didn't know the situation with Illya, if he started throwing power around then there was a chance he might end up provoking her kidnappers into doing something stupid. Granted, the chance seemed slim, given what was going on. Whoever had taken her had obviously put a lot of effort into it, enough so that they wouldn't throw it all away in a casual moment of paranoia. However there was always a chance, and until he was sure he'd not be gambling with his adopted sister's life.

So he just advanced, his stride measured and his weapons ready in his mind, every sense primed to pick up anything that might be a hint of the trap being sprung. He strained himself, trying to see if he could spot any of the knots of power that might suggest a waiting spell, a magical mine, a waiting servitor, anything that could be a threat.

Nothing, there was nothing. Even though he pushed himself to the limit Shirou couldn't detect a thing, and that just made him more worried. He knew this was a trap, so where were the teeth?

He could see no hint of them as he made his way further into the park, and soon he was at the object of his search.

Finding Illya wasn't hard, there had been no attempt made to hide her location and the spot she chose was easily seen. The park they were in had a small lake taking up about a third of its area. It was a man made lake, large enough to support a population of fish and big enough so that people could take boats out onto it when the weather was good. His sister was sitting on a bench that faced the lake and wasn't facing him directly, though her identity was not in any sort of doubt. She was staring out at the water as she kicked her feet in a surprisingly childish way. The sun had long set by now, but between moonlight and the streetlights that illuminated the park the lake was easy to see, its rippling surface looking oddly silvered in the mixture of lights.

"Illya-chan!"

Her name burst out of him as soon as he laid eyes on her, relief blooming in him as he saw that she didn't show any hints of being hurt. Part of him wanted to rush over to her immediately, but caution held him back. She was just sitting there, so where were her kidnappers? Where was the trap? More than that, there were small things about her that caught his attention. The clothing she had on was almost identical to what she'd worn when he first met her back in Fuyuki, but he knew she hadn't been wearing them when she was kidnapped. In fact, he was pretty sure that she didn't own any at home, given that it had been mid-spring when they got here, and now it was only late summer. Also there were differences from what she had worn then, namely that this version was darker, the white now replaced with black, and the purple also darkened. Then there was the way she wasn't turning to face him, even after he called out. Something was wrong here, and he wasn't sure what.

A part of him was screaming to just Trace Rule Breaker and launch it at her. Yes, it might give her a nasty wound, but she could heal herself pretty quickly, and it would free her from any bindings that might be on her. The problem with that thought was that there was a chance it might be something the enemy might have planned for. Since the mess Venus knowledge of the magic breaking Noble Phantasm had spread in the magical world, mainly due to Luo Hao. No doubt she had thought she was enhancing Shirou's reputation by speaking of his forethought in preparing such a tool in the case of his subversion. The problem was that while he had gained renown for his preparedness it had also become public that Rule Breaker existed. If Illya's kidnappers knew of it then they could have set other spells or effects that would go off if any on his adopted sister were negated. It could be as simple as an explosion going off under her if he did so.

No, he had to be careful.

"Onii-chan," her voice sounded as light as bells, slightly amused, even though he couldn't see her expression. "I'm so glad to see you've come. Hey, hey, doesn't it bring back memories, meeting like this? Just like the first time we met."

Shirou could feel a cold prickling sensation begin to work its way up his spine. Something was wrong here, very wrong. Illya-chan might like to affect the childish behaviour that one would expect from one of her apparent age, but when things became serious she'd shed such mannerisms like cumbersome clothing. She'd never act like this in a situation like this, she should have immediately told him what happened to her, what enemies they faced, what plans were being arrayed against them.

More than that, her current demeanour was . . . excessive. It was like she was deliberately trying to act 'cutesy' to an almost farcical degree. This . . . this wasn't like her. Something was wrong!

"Ne ne, onii-chan, can you do me a favour?"

With a final kick of her legs Illya stood up, but still faced away from him. Her hands were clasped behind her back, and her head was tilted enough to make it clear that she was staring up at the sky. It was a picture of adorable and innocent childishness, and at any other time Shirou would have regarded it as his adopted sister trying slightly too hard to be cute, most likely before she asked him to buy her some new anime box set that had just come out.

But right here, right now? It was off, wrong. It was as though all the pieces fitted together, but the image they produced was the opposite of what it should be.

"Illya?"

Her name was a question, a multitude in a single utterance. Was she well? What was she talking about? Was she alone? Why was she here? All those and so man more.

"Can you die for me?"

It was Archer that saved him.

That question, asked in such a casual tone, as though she were asking him if he could pass her the salt, utterly threw him. This was Illya! The same Illya that had run into that collapsing cave in which he had been dying in order to save him. She was Kiritsugu's daughter, his sister, his precious friend and family. Of course he would die for her, so why was she . . . ? His confused thoughts left him frozen in place, not for long, only a second or two, but in that moment he was uncertain, unprepared, vulnerable.

"▄▅▄▅▂▂▃▃▄▄▅!"

The roar came at the exact same moment that the tower shield's spiked end stabbed down at his head, the metal powered by all the strength of the false Berserker that his sister had created. The blow came, by skill or by coincidence, at the exact moment that he had been lost. The exact moment he had been vulnerable.

Shirou's own thoughts or skills weren't a factor as his mind was blank; instead the reflexes that he'd inherited from EMIYA through the arm that had replaced his own saved him. His body just leaned to the side, a single smooth motion that took him out of the path of those brutal weapons with only fractions of an inch to spare. He felt the wind of its passage on his cheek; saw the spikes pass by his eyes so close that his prana reinforced vision could see the spots where the shields had been repaired after the battle on the island.

Then the shields slammed into the ground, and the moment was lost.

Intellectually Shirou knew that the creation that Illya had made was an inferior copy of the Servant that had served her during the Fifth Heaven's Feel. It was like his Tracing had been, before he'd worked out how to use his Dragon Slaying Hero Authority to prevent degradation in his imitations. This was not the monster that he'd watched Saber fight the second time he'd met Illya-chan. Nor was this the blind and maimed creature that had driven him to risk his life for power. This was a stand in, a reproduction, an inferior copy that was weaker in every way. This was all something that he knew with total certainty. He'd helped Illya determine the limits of her creation's powers and abilities, after all.

It certainly didn't feel like it was inferior to the original, not when the sheer force of its impact with the ground was enough to send him rolling backwards. The shockwave of the missed blows hitting the ground had been enough, and for a moment the King of Steel was back in Fuyuki facing the monster that was Berserker for the first time.

Then his own training kicked in, and he was regaining his footing, his hands tensing to grasp whatever weapons he might Trace for them at a moment's notice. He'd been expecting a blistering follow up attack, but instead the puppet Berserker held its place next to Illya, its eyes remaining locked on him.

"Ah, I guess I should have known that wouldn't be enough to kill you, onii-chan. If it had been then you never would have become a Campione in the first place, would you?"

"Illya, what're you doing?!"

He didn't know what was happening, but he was starting to get a feel of it. This was a trap, and his adopted sister was playing the part of both bait and blade for him. What he needed to know was how she was being compelled, because he didn't believe for a moment that she was trying to kill him of her own free will.

"I'm sorry onii-chan, but you really should have known this was coming. After all, thieves just can't be left to prosper, can they? It sets a very poor precedent."

He didn't have time to try to decipher what she had said, because in the next instant the imitation Berserker was coming at him again, those massive shields swinging through the air in huge arcs. But this time he was better prepared, his mind uncluttered by shock, and his magecraft reinforced body was once again able to dodge. Even as he did so he began to murmur the spell words of his Dragon Slaying Hero Authority, letting its power pour into him. He hadn't been using it before because he had feared provoking his sister's attackers into harming her, now though that seemed like less of a concern than it had a bit ago.

"A hero endures, a hero perseveres, through adversity and challenge, though victory and joy. Tempered by life and forged into legend this steel shall slay all monsters before me."

The power shot through him, liquid metal feeling as though it had joined the flow of the blood in his veins and the prana in his circuits. Traced swords formed in his hands, nameless weapons, but Noble Phantasms none the less. The same steel that flowed through him strengthened them, reinforced them, giving them the strength that his magecraft would not have been able to replicate otherwise.

A massive burst of sparks lit up the falling night as the swords clashed with the shield. This time Shirou was able to maintain his footing, and with the strength usurped from Perseus flowing through him he was able to match his attacker. Yes, he was out massed by his enemy by an almost absurd degree, given not only the puppet's massive weight but also that of those enormous metal slabs that were called shields, but between his Authority and his magecraft he could actually hold his ground despite the difference.

"▄▃▄▅▄▂▃▅▂▄▅!"

Mindless though the false Servant might be it was still intimidating, especially to one that had faced the true Berserker. Still, Shirou didn't flinch back as the gigantic figure closed on him again; instead he met the attack with his blades once more. Again the sparks burst out to light up the growing darkness, then again, and again. The tempo of the bright bursts increased as Mystic Codes and Traced Noble Phantasms clashed over and over, the strength and speed behind them far greater than any mortal could achieve.

The contest did not last for long though, there was no real way it could. Potent though the magecraft Illya had used to enhance the shields were it was not enough to stand up to even the low ranked Noble Phantasms that Shirou was using, not when they were backed by his supernatural strength. One of them gave way, and broke apart as the puppet brought it up to block a blow. Bereft of its protection it could only raise a bare arm to block the oncoming slash.

An action that proved to be completely successful.

The eighth Campione had known this was coming, had known that degraded though it might be the imitation Berserker also possessed an imitation of the Noble Phantasm that had been bonded to the original Servant's skin; God Hand. The swords he was wielding might be enhanced with the essence of Steel that he'd gained from Perseus, but that didn't change the fact that they were still just E ranked Noble Phantasms. Even with the strength of Dragon Slaying Hero they were no more able to pierce the puppet's skin than they were able to slice the moon.

But the puppet had blocked, why had it done that? Illya knew that her creation was damned durable, and even if it lacked the extra twelve lives that Heracles had possessed she had been sure that the degraded copy of his Noble Phantasm would allow her imitation to regenerate from fatal damage at least two or three times. So why was her false Servant moving to defend itself?

There was something else too. The greatest weakness of the puppet Berserker had always been that since it had no mind of its own the only driving force behind it had been Illya's will. There had been some remnant of the muscle memory that the true Heracles had cultivated through his life, but that had been it. Since his sister had very little in the way of personal combat skills she was unable to use the vast strength and speed of her creation to the natural maximum it was capable of. She had grown somewhat more proficient with her control of it since the first time she had employed it, but even so its movements were a pale shadow of the Servant it had been copied from.

Now though, now it moved . . . differently. His sister had cobbled together her 'fighting style', such as it was, through a combination of experimentation and video games. Her puppet's body had been so utterly different from her own that her own instincts had been all but useless when it came to controlling it. Instead she'd had to find what worked and go from there. She hadn't done too bad a job, imitating the behaviour of the Servant that had once served her had been easy enough, but his moves had been a different matter. What she'd come up with was a mixture of brutal simplicity and touches of unnecessary showmanship. Shirou personally blamed that last bit on all the fighting games she played. Spinning attacks with dual weapons might look pretty awesome on the screen and during a cut scene, but he could speak from experience that they are somewhat less practical in real life, outside of certain situations.

The way that the puppet was fighting now though, there was definitely something different about it. There was all the brutality and aggression that I was familiar with, but there was also a viciousness to the attacks that he'd never run into with Illya before. There was a savage ferocity that wasn't a part of Illya's nature. She could be vicious, she could be vengeful, but she never lost control, she never became an animal. The thing before him was in many ways even more of a berserker than her Servant had been during the Heaven's Feel, it's skill barely remaining in the face of it's raw fury.

It all added up to something, and it wasn't something that he liked the look of.

The puppet, and possibly Illya-chan herself, were being controlled by someone else.

Since the fake Berserker had attacked his adopted sister hadn't moved from where she had been standing. She hadn't even turned to face them, instead seeming to stare out over the lake. Shirou wasn't fooled though, he knew that her senses were linked to her imitation Servant's, so she was every bit as aware of how the fight was going as she would have been had she been right there.

"Trace. Over edge. Break!"

Having thrown himself back to make some room the King of Steel muttered the words to himself as he channelled more of his prana into the weapons he held. As he did so the magical energy surged into the counterfeit weapons, the power growing greater than the constructs were meant to hold, making them fragile, making them unstable, making them broken.

His arms snapped forward as he launched the weapons at his enemy, the motion one that his elder counterpart had long ago perfected. Swords weren't the most aerodynamic projectiles one could use, but with some strength, dexterity and a little magic it was possible to make them fly as straight and hard as bullets.

That proved the case here, as both of the Broken Phantasms impacted the false Berserker's chest even as Shirou threw himself backwards. The weapons had only been E ranked, but any Noble Phantasm, even one of such low status, was still a legendary weapon that had crystallized from a myth. For normal Magi back in his home world even these would have been prizes to be coveted. In this case they made decent improvised explosives.

The explosion of prana they released as they impacted the huge chest of the counterfeit Servant was enough to send Shirou tumbling back, even though he'd been putting space between them. However, he had been ready for it, and his tumble turned into a controlled one, making it easy for him to regain his footing in short order. A quick glance confirmed that he had been right in his plan; the puppet had not fared as well as he had. To be sure no damage had been inflicted, but the swords had caught the false Heracles mid step while it had been off balance. The puppet might have been resistant to the weapons themselves, and it might have been able to take the explosion as well, but that didn't change the fact that it couldn't simply ignore it, or the kinetic energy that was released. It might have possessed the great size and weight of the true Berserker, but the imitation possessed none of his instinctual skill and poise. Getting hit by that explosion might not have hurt it much, but was able to throw the puppet backwards.

Shirou didn't hesitate as he saw his opening. Whatever might be controlling the puppet was no more skilled than his sister had been in the more subtle aspects of directing it. Certainly they had seemed somewhat more competent at using it in battle, but in more fine control they seemed to be no better than her, seeing as the great form of the false Servant was being a bit slow to get back on its feet. The eighth Campione's hand tensed, ready to grab another Noble Phantasm as it was Traced. This time it would be something with a bit more firepower, B ranked at the very least. He wasn't sure that it would be efficient to try to destroy the puppet though, not given that it should have at least some stock lives to it. It would be more sensible to try and restrain it somehow. That was possible, he had some Noble Phantasms in his Reality Marble that could do the job, but he wasn't sure if-

"You know onii-chan; you really do make things more complicated than they need to be."

The voice spoke almost into his ear, and once more it was only pure reflex that saved his life. He didn't think, he didn't wonder, he just threw himself sideways and down. He felt the blade pass through where he'd been, and felt a brief grim pleasure in having reacted correctly. Had he simply pushed himself away from the voice the slash still would have caught him, by going in an unusual direction he was able to escape any harm.

His dive turned into a roll, and again he was on his feet, Kanshou and Bakuya forming in his hands, their familiar presence reassuring, a reminder that he was by no means helpless. The married blades were held were ready as he came up, but no attack was forthcoming. Instead the puppet Berserker was now standing behind Illya as she stood there calmly, her posture relaxed despite having just almost taken his head off.

"As skilled as ever, onii-chan. You're really not going to make this easy for me, are you? That's hardly very brotherly of you."

Shirou heard her words, but the vast majority of his attention was on something else. He hadn't been able to see her attack before, not when it had come out of his blind spot, he had only been able to sense it and react. He'd assumed it was the Beautiful Head Taker, but instead he saw her holding curved sickle-like blade, their edges lined with barbs and hooks. Illya held them as though she knew how to use them, but this was all simply peripheral knowledge, almost all of his attention was being swallowed up by what his Reality Marble was telling him about those . . . those things!

Shirou had experienced some vile things through his natural Structural Grasping of every weapon that he saw. He had seen the blackened version of Excalibur, a Holy Sword sunk into corruption. He had, in the memories of his other selves, seen Ea, a weapon so alien to him that there was no way he could understand it, despite it being a sword, his brain had felt as though it would split when he tried. And then there had been the Thousand Swords of Mordred, all the atrocities of war condensed into blades for his magecraft to read. Until now those divine Authority spells had been the most hideous things that he'd ever seen, so much death, rape, pillage and savagery all forced into his mind as his Reality Marble tried to read them. Never before had he been so glad for Unlimited Blade Works to fail to gain a weapon, because all that ugliness fading from his mind had been the only thing to keep him sane.

Those red metal swords had been the worst that he'd ever seen, at least until now.

The things that the former Master of the Einzbern family held in her hands were more than mere atrocities given form. They were physical obscenities against all life. They were senseless torture, they were wonton murder, they were despoilment, ruination, torment, defilement! They were all these things and more, unending and upon such a wonton and massive scale that the King of Steel wasn't sure he was capable of grasping it! He felt his stomach rebel, and for a moment his vision swam as he tried to keep his body's reaction under control. Like the Thousand Swords he could feel that these blades, these aberrations, were not settling into his Reality Marble, and that was probably the only thing that was allowing him to maintain some sort of control. As it was, every time he even looked at them it was as though his soul was drowning in the filth of millennia of the worst of mankind's sins.

As he struggled to maintain his readiness, even though the nausea that the weapons were causing him, Illya stared at him, her head cocked ever so slightly to the side.

"Oh? Is something bothering you, onii-chan?"

Her smile was the same one that she had shown him when she'd been concerned about him working too hard to find a way back home. Everything was the same, the curve of her lips, the slight rise of her eyebrows, even the way her hair framed her face, it was all the same, and yet there was no warmth there. In fact . . . even though she was moving and even acting like her normal self there was definitely something missing here.

Then he had no more time to think, because both puppet and puppeteer were coming at him together. The move caught Shirou off guard, because while he knew that Illya could control her puppet while engaging in other actions, using it in combat while she herself was fighting was beyond her abilities. She'd tried it more than once, normally with him being the training dummy, and he'd seen the results first hand. Illya was bright, brilliant even, but even so splitting her thoughts like that was just not something the mortal mind was designed to do. Oh, there were mages that could do things like that, wilfully fracture their minds so that different parts could focus on different tasks, but such practioners had to walk a very fine line. All magi walked with death, but having madness as a companion was somewhat more daunting, given how highly magi prized their intellects.

Illya shouldn't be able to do this, so . . .

"Trace on."

His arms blurred as the black and white swords in them went flying through the air, their trajectory taking them straight at Illya. Of course he had no wish to hurt her, and the throw was timed perfectly so that it would be the hilts rather than the blades that hit her. Not that it was really relevant, because she was able to dodge to the side with greater speed than he was aware her body could produce. Still, though not quite what he wanted the result was more or less what he had hoped for, a distraction.

"Chains of Prometheus!"

With his sister having dodged to the side it was just the puppet Berserker coming at him, and he had just the Noble Phantasm to deal with the false demigod. Again the shields swung out at him, all fury and power and vicious skill, and again Shirou dodged them with a combination of speed and skill. But this time he didn't stop there, instead he moved in closer.

The weapon in his hands was not what any truly skilled warrior would have considered a suitable weapon for close range combat. It was a long length of chain easily more than three metres long. The links were large heavy things, each as thick as a man's thumb at the very least, and forged from dark iron. At each end of the chain was a large metal spike, but unlike the nails that had been used by Rider in his Holy Grail War these looked less like weapons than they did stakes to be driven into the ground. The chain itself didn't look like a weapon either, more like the sort of chain that would be used on a ship's anchor.

Had it been a normal weapon then it would have been utterly unsuited for close combat. Such a weapon would have needed space for him to swing it around and gain the momentum needed to make it a viable threat. However, this was no common weapon, this was a Noble Phantasm.

Like a living thing both ends of the Chain sprang to life and lashed out as Shirou simply held onto the centre of the length. The large spikes on the end struck the shields, their angle and force just enough to push them out and away from the puppet, just a bit.

That was all that was needed!

Suddenly the Chain was no longer a limb lashing out; instead it was a snake, a constrictor that was hungry and hunting. With uncanny speed the metal links wrapped around the false Servant, binding its arms to its side and dragging it to the ground. Before it could respond to its controller's will and try to regain its footing the stakes stabbed into the earth and held as though they were embedded in granite rather than soft soil. The counterfeit Berserker struggled, but for all its efforts it was unable to budge the bindings that held it.

The King of Steel allowed his lips to curl in a small but triumphant grin. This was a Noble Phantasm that he'd known would be of use eventually, but which he had been unable to use against the foes he'd faced so far. Αλυσίδες του Προμηθέα, or the Chain of Prometheus, was an incarnation of the chains that had held the titan Prometheus in place while his torture had been administered. The Noble Phantasm had limited abilities to bind any divine being, but against most its strength was insufficient since it only 'came alive' with its full power when faced with a divinity of Greek origin. So far his luck in that area hadn't been great.

Back during the Holy Grail War the only Servant it would have been any good against would have been Berserker, and the irony was that since Heracles had been the hero that broke the original chains and freed Prometheus they were unable to hold him in their current incarnation. The Chain of Prometheus could be broken by Heracles, this was the rule of their legend, and as such made it useless in the Heaven's Feel ritual as far as Archer was concerned.

As for Shirou in his new world, when he'd faced Perseus it had been right after becoming a Campione, and as such he'd not yet finished integrating the knowledge from Archer's arm into his own Reality Marble. Not that it would have done much good though, Perseus had been a Greek hero, but his origins had been outside the lands of Olympus, so he was more like an adopted child than on born of Olympian blood. When he had faced Hades he'd felt it stir slightly in the depths of Unlimited Blade Works, but at that time it had been out of his mental reach. Against Mordred it had tried to awaken, signifying that the Knight of Betrayal had some ties to the Greek pantheon, but it had not fully come alive. The same had been true of Odysseus, he was Greek in name, but his origins had been from other nations.

But . . . the puppet was not Heracles. Oh, it had a copy of his strength, his power, his divinity, but all of them were degraded, and most importantly it didn't have the soul of the arguably greatest of all Greek heroes. All it was, in the end, was a divine being of Greek origin, and as such it was easy prey for the Chain that once bound a titan.

"▄▅▃▄▂▃▄▅▂▄▅!"

The imitation Berserker thrashed upon the ground, its massive legs writhing like snakes as it tried to struggle free, but even though it left craters and grooves gouged out of the earth its upper body remained fixed in place, unable to move even an inch from where its bindings held it. The entire exchange had only taken a handful of seconds, his Tracing and the Chain being so fast.

Movement caught his eye, and Shirou tensed as he saw Illya getting to her feet again, those horrific blades still held in her hands. For a moment she just stared at the bound puppet, her face falling even deeper into shadow as the false Servant's struggles grew even greater, its muscles straining against the chain that held it. Then it went limp, as unmoving as a discarded toy. His snowy haired sister continued to stare at it for a moment, then turned away with a soft sound of irritation.

"Impressive, onii-chan. No matter how I make him thrash it makes no difference. I can't even make him return to his astral form, that chain holds him completely."

Again her tone was almost conversational, but also too sweet, too . . . cutesy. Everything about it made Shirou feel on edge.

"What are you doing, Illya? Why are you attacking me?"

He wasn't sure if he would receive any answers, but he asked the questions regardless.

"I told you, onii-chan. I'm just making sure a thief gets his just rewards. Isn't that what you think is right? Don't you agree that a thief should pay for what he's stolen?"

She came at him again, but his speed was greater and he was able to dodge back, putting room between them,

"What are you talking about? What did I steal? Why do you have to punish me for it?"

She paused again, her head bowed and her pale hair falling about her face like a curtain.

"What do you think you stole, onii-chan? What do you think you took that could have led to this?!"

As she spoke her head came up, and for the first time since he'd entered the park Shirou could see her face properly, he could see her eyes. Those eyes, they were wrong, there were no whites to them, only black. But it went deeper than that. Illya could be cruel, she could be ruthless, she could be malicious, he'd seen all of that in their first meeting as Masters, but those eyes . . . there was something in them that was distinctly inhuman.

"What sin could you have committed? What transgression do you think it could be?"

His adopted sister was advancing towards him now, each step slow and measured. The weapons were still held in her hands, but they weren't held ready for battle. Her black eyes remained locked on him, her red irises floating upon the blackness like coals burning in an abyss. Shirou watched her carefully, watched for signs of attack, for anything that could give him a hint of what was going on. That was when he saw it.

Illya was leaving a trail as she advanced. It had been hard to notice due to the poor light, but once he saw it there was no way he could mistake it. Where she walked plants died. No, that wasn't strong enough a term, the plants didn't simply die, they wilted, sickened, deformed and rotted. The pavement and stones that she stepped on or passed over simply crumbled away, breaking down as some sort of acid had been poured upon them.

"What do you think you have to pay?"

No sooner had the last word left her lips than Illya darted forwards, her torture weapons flicking through the air, hungry for his flesh, his blood, his pain. Kanshou and Bakuya were back in his hands, and they came up to deflect the monstrosities that his adopted sister held. They struck, and Shirou winced in effort as he tightened his grip on his weapons. Strong, definitely too strong to be just Illya using Reinforcement. It wasn't as strong as Mordred or Hades, but it was comparable to when he'd fought Perseus.

The strength of a god, why did Illya-chan have it?

He knew he was missing something, something that should have been more obvious, but his mind seemed to be stuck on the fact that Illya was trying to kill him. It was stupid, it should have been something he could get past, but the thought that Illya, Illya-chan that had rushed into the collapsing Greater Grail cave to save him, who had been at his side ever since they'd come to this world, who was his dearest friend and confidant, was trying to kill him.

It was as though everything that had happened since the beginning of the war was gone, and he was back to the girl that had callously ordered her Servant to massacre him, Rin, and Saber.

Shaking his head he tried to ready himself as she came at him.


-()-


Godou knew things had gone south as soon as he saw the figure between the two monsters.

If it had just been the two monsters then he wouldn't have felt so worried. Yes, they were big, and they were damned scary. One of them looked rather like what you'd expect from the offspring of some prehistoric snake and the kraken's uglier sibling. The other was more humanoid, but only in the vaguest sense. It was more of a caricature than the real thing, all long spindly limbs that bent too many times to be natural, skull like face and tar holes for eyes.

Yes, they were intimidating, but it wasn't anything that he couldn't deal with. He'd faced monsters before, and he knew that he could handle them. No, the really worrying sight was the beautiful young woman that sat between them as though they were unwanted bodyguards.

Calling her beautiful was perhaps an understatement of criminal proportions. Her hair was an even more pristine white than Illya-chan's, almost silver, and was crowned with a wreath of leafs and yellow flowers. Her eyes were yellow gemstones that sparkled with life and were framed by long and delicate eyelashes of inhuman perfection. Her face was young, that of a girl of his age, and was achingly beautiful. He had seen beauty before, but this wasn't the towering majesty of Tiamat at her height, nor was it the intoxicating gorgeousness of Venus. This was closer to the loveliness of Athena in her adult form; in fact he could see strange commonalities between them. Both had silver hair, both had a crown of flowers, both had a beauty that could be described as 'maidenly'.

Of course, all of this was rather secondary to a more pressing detail about the goddess, for there was nothing else that she could be. Namely, the fact that she was naked.

Well, perhaps not completely naked, she had a length of blue cloth that hovered around her in defiance of gravity, but aside from that she wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing, meaning that he was being treated to a very blatant display of her gorgeous form.

Godou was no stranger to the female body, not given Erica's preference for sleeping in the nude, getting him to wake her up, and for teasing him. There had also been that meeting in the baths with Luo Hao, and the time he'd seen Athena disrobed. Though, now that he thought about it, given that she'd been in her childish form at the time that was a bit more awkward than it was stunning. Still, despite these experiences with females that came pretty damned close to perfection he still felt his jaw come a bit loose at the sight of the goddess before him.

He was able to pull himself together fairly quickly though, as his mind catalogued important details, namely that both her arms were some sort of brassy metal from the middle of her upper arms down to her fingertips, and that she was also metal from the waist down as well. Strangely this did nothing to detract from her beauty, instead it only served to highlight it, almost as though she were bedecked with jewels rather than having whole portions of her body replaced.

Still, none of this was of as much concern to Godou as the fact that she was a beautiful female wielding unknown but no doubt potent power.

This rather odd concern was due to a single simple fact; every time the seventh Devil King had met a beautiful woman wielding unearthly power his life had grown more complicated. Seriously, Erica, Yuri, Athena, Liliana, Ena, Illya-chan, Luo Hao, it just kept on getting worse and worse. Quite frankly the only potent female user of magic that he'd ever come into contact with without it making things more convoluted was when he'd met Annie Chariton, and that was probably because she'd had to go back to America after the events with Sun Wukong. He was absolutely sure that his run of ill fortune in that regard was not in any way going to abate, he just wasn't that lucky.

"Ah, King Kusanagi Godou, this goddess is most happy to see that you have marshalled your forces and taken the field."

Her voice was a perfect match for her appearance, young and lilting, with a slight accent to her words that he couldn't place.

"If you wanted to get my attention you didn't have to go so far, show some common sense!"

Godou spoke gave voice to his frustrations as he scolded the goddess. Honestly, he wasn't expecting this to sink in at all, not given his track record with trying to convince deities to act sensibly, but hope sprung ever eternal. Maybe one day he'd meet a god who would hear his words and realize that there wasn't any justification for the chaos that they brought to the world around them.

And if that did happen, he'd probably fall over in surprise. Still, his words weren't just to vent his frustration, they served another purpose. Yuri was currently standing some distance away using her spirit sight to try and gain some intelligence upon this Heretic God. The seventh Campione was meant to do what he could to gain her as much time as he could manage, so he'd decided to approach this differently than he would have normally.

Doing his best to be subtle he took a quick look around the general area. This was a large crossroads that stood at the heart of what was normally a major commerce area. Off to one side he could see a supermarket; to another was a large department store. Over to the other side he could see one of those large advertisement screens with a number of smaller shops beneath it. This was the kind of place that would normally be bustling with people, even at this late hour, but the efforts of the Committee as well as some spells from the goddess herself had managed to ensure the whole area was deserted.

Actually it was bit on the creepy side, seeing somewhere that should have been teeming with people so empty and silent. It made him think of one of those post-apocalyptic films, where only a handful of survivors remained in an empty world. Was this what it felt like?

Random thoughts aside though, this was probably as good as he could get it in regards to a place to fight. True, he would have preferred to face these enemies somewhere a bit more open, with less buildings to act as collateral, but at least he didn't have to worry about any innocents getting caught up in the crossfire. That meant that his hands wouldn't be quite as tied as they could be.

"An invitation for a King should never be a drab affair," The goddess stated. "Though I confess that I had little input in this affair, that was all on the part of my allies in this matter."

Allies, she had allies? Damn it, why were all the gods that were coming to Japan making trouble in groups? Sun Wukong and his brothers, Venus, Athena, Tiamat and Jord, now this. It was enough to make him miss the days when he only had to deal with rogue deities one at a time. No! He couldn't let himself get distracted. She had allies, alright, then where were they?

Well, he was trying to go for something a bit new here; he might as well go for broke.

"And where might these allies of yours be? If they have laid out this invitation then the least they could do was be here to greet me."

As he spoke Godou was doing his best to channel half a dozen villains from various shows that he'd watched as a child. Duke Midnight from Black Kenshin Ranger, the Sixth Maoh King from Hacha Rangers Rainbow, Princess Eclipse from that show his sister had forced him to watch with her, all of them had been regal and charismatic, if he could imitate them then he was sure he could pull this off.

"Sadly it is not my place to disclose the secrets of those with whom I work."

Was that a hint of bitterness in her tone? Godou wasn't sure, but he was starting to form a mental picture of what might be going on here.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off as the snake thing with a few dozen extra tails to serve as tentacles lashed out at him. The serpentine limbs seemed to stretch as it covered the distance between them, but Godou was already moving, diving to the side as the mass of muscles and scales smashed down on the spot where he had been standing. The concrete slabs that had been there splintered like cheap plywood hit by a bulldozer and shards of concrete went flying everywhere with a force comparable to bullets.

The King of Disaster wasn't worried by that though, after the hellish training he'd been put through by both Athena and Tanaka-sensei a few bits of flying stone were beneath concern. Truthfully he didn't even notice them, not on a conscious level anyway. As he came up he had already instinctively raised his right arm up to shield the side of his head facing the spot he'd previously occupied. The flying shrapnel impacted his arm, but aside from some scratches that didn't even bleed there was no effect from the impacts.

"Ah, it would seem that my companions are too eager to wait any more. You had best be wary, your highness, Envy and Hatred are not beasts to be taken lightly."

Well, he had names for the monsters at least. Now, how best to deal with them?

The first thing that came to mind was using his Stallion Authority. The monsters had already established themselves as the enemies of the people, given that their fellows were already rampaging through other parts of the city, and that they had already begun to smash up the current location, so using it wasn't an issue. The problem was whether he should or shouldn't.

On the one hand if he used it now he'd be able to catch all three of them in the attack, meaning that he had a chance to wipe out both the monsters and the goddess in one fell swoop. The problem was that doing so meant that he wouldn't have the Stallion to use as a trump card later, if he had to face the goddess' as yet unnamed allies. Also he didn't know what Authorities the goddess before him could bring to bear. The Stallion was his most powerful Authority in terms of sheer firepower and destructive potential, but that didn't mean it was unblockable. Apollo had shown that quite disastrously during their battle, and Godou had no intentions of making the same mistake again. The powerful sun Authority was best kept as a trump card rather than as an opening gambit.

No, what he needed to do was deal with those monsters while getting a better feel of what the Heretic Goddess could do.

'Here, on this spot, I invoke the name of Ama no Murakumo no Tsurugi! The steel unmatched, the steel ever faithful, the steel that breaks a thousand blades!"

In response to his words the sword appeared in his hands, its form that of a black bladed curved sword similar to a katana. Ame No Murakumo No Tsurugi did not speak in his mind as it was sometimes wont to do, but he could feel the echoes of its eagerness to fight. These foes were enemies that it were akin to the youkai and divine beasts that it had slaughtered in the hands of its original owner, Susanoo, and the notion of battle with more such enemies had the divine blade almost quivering with eagerness.

Alright! He could do this! He'd had all that training with the sword, he could do thi-

The scaled limb lashed out at him again, its speed such that he was only just able to get the sword up in time. It didn't make much of a difference though, even as the edge of the divine sword bit into the flesh of the limb the rest of it slammed into his body with all the impact of a runaway truck. The force of the impact lifted him off his feet and sent him sailing through the air to crash thought the display window of the department store he'd noted earlier. The glass was thick and reinforced, but it wasn't designed to take these kinds of impacts, and it shattered as his body struck it with a force normally reserved for things like cannonballs.

It was, Godou decided as he pushed a manikin off himself, a sign of how weird his life had become that he didn't even regard this latest event as all that significant. Indeed, he was more irritated about the rips in his shirt than he was about any harm that might have been dealt to his body. Where had his normal life gone?

No time to think about that now though! Using a roll that Tanaka-sensei had drilled into his head the seventh Campione got back on his feet just as two more of those serpentine limbs smashed into the shop front on either side of him. A second later and they were slamming together, displays, products, manikins and shelving all being swept up as the car sized limbs closed with each other.

The crush of scales and debris found no human victim though, because even before his eyes had fully taken in what he was seeing Godou's body had already been moving, throwing itself deeper into the store and out of reach of those massive limbs. Huh, maybe there had been some practical application to all those hours spent training. That was not something he'd ever thought he'd be thinking about the time that Athena had ambushed him on his way to the bathroom at two in the morning, but maybe he'd been wrong.

Regardless he had no intention of simply running, he might have been taken by surprise by that first attack, but he was going to-

His thoughts were interrupted by a bra landing on his face. Not just any bra either, this was one of those red lacy ones that somehow managed to be see-through and concealing at the same time. The last time that he'd seen such a bra it had been adorning Erica's body, and it had been quite the sight to behold. The fact that one had just landed on him was more than a bit distracting, and not just because of the memories it brought up.

Looking around Godou realized that his frantic retreat had landed him in the store's lingerie department, a fact that became clearer as a manikin wearing an extremely lacy teddy fell down on him.

Struggling his way out from under the scantily clad display piece the young Kusanagi decided that things were getting ridiculous. If he wanted to make any sort of progress he was going to have to regain some momentum, as opposed to just reacting to his enemies.

Unfortunately it didn't seem that they were going to give him a chance to take the initiative. Even as he tightened his grip on the Ama no Murakumo he heard a resounding crash come from the storefront that he'd been thrown through. Looking over one of the partitions that separated the departments Godou could see that the more humanoid of the monsters was forcing its way into the store. It looked bizarre, outside it had stood more than thirty feet tall, but now its limbs moved in an almost insect-like manner, its neck and back contorted in ways that would have left a normal body crippled as the monster forced its way into the store. Ceiling tiles broke; displays were flattened, as it scuttled its way in, those empty tar filled sockets glaring about as they tried to find him.

Alright, this could be both a danger and an opportunity. He could almost hear his sensei lecturing him about using his environment to his advantage. Well, the man might be the kind of taskmaster that made insane drill sergeants seem soft by comparison, but the man did know his stuff. Right, on the plus side if he engaged the monster inside the building its movements would be limited by the walls and ceiling. It would be stuck in that weird crouch and be unable to move as it might have otherwise, something that would hopefully encumber it, leave it less able to bring its full strength to the fight. Of course the same was true for Godou, though it was admittedly to a lesser degree. Being smaller he'd be able to move more freely, but he'd also be somewhat more constrained in what he could do than he'd prefer. If he cut loose with his Authorities it would be all too easy for him to bring the whole building down on top of him. Granted, it was unlikely to be able to kill him outright, and he had several Authorities that would help him get out, but it would still leave him trapped for at least a short time, time that could be used against him. However, if-

Oh, screw this, all this over thinking things, it wasn't his style! Godou knew that he wasn't an intellectual fighter; he was someone that went with their instincts more than their head. He wasn't the kind of guy that could come up with a plan and then flawlessly manipulate his enemy into falling for it. He was more for a straight up fight than he was for a grand plan.

"YEEEAAAAGGGGHHHHHIIIIII!"

The long drawn out moan wasn't what he had been expecting from the monster. He'd have thought something like that would have let out some sort of chittering screech, maybe a bellowing roar, instead the sound it made sounded like something that a horror film zombie would have voiced. Assuming it was the size of a small house, of course. It reached out towards the seventh Campione its head twisted so much to the side it was almost upside down as it stared at the God Slayer.

Okay, that was even creepier than the whole empty district thing! He had to hand it to the goddess, these monsters of hers were, at least on a purely visual level, a fair bit more unsettling than anything he'd gone up against so far, and that included scorpion men, the undead, and huge dragons.

Oh, forget this, he had his sword, he had an enemy in front of him that needed to die, that would be enough for now. If he didn't make a move in this he was going to be stuck on the back foot for even longer, and he was tired of it already.

"Alright, let's go!"

He didn't shout the challenge, even though he kind of felt like doing so. Instead he spoke it at a normal speaking volume, as though addressing someone that he'd just met on the street. Well, it was hardly important; the words were spoken more for his own benefit than they were for his enemy. After all, this thing looked like it probably couldn't comprehend human speech if it was addressed.

As soon as he finished speaking Godou was moving, dashing to the left so that the line of sight between him and the monster was obscured by a shelf of folded sweaters. The monster unleashed another moaning bellow, and its tree trunk like arm swept out, smashing though the shelving like a shovel hitting a sand castle. Well, that was fine; the seventh Campione had been expecting it. The thing might be big and powerful, but its movements were easy to predict. The shelves hadn't been meant to keep him safe; all they had been meant to do was cut off the monster's line of sight!

A savage grin crossed Godou's face as he came up out of his dive. The divine beast had been balanced on its right hand, so by making for its right, or his own left, he'd forced it to lash out with its left arm. Contorted though it might be the thing hadn't shown any powers that let it defy physics, at least not yet. That meant that unless it suddenly started levitating it couldn't casually use its right arm without letting itself fall. So it had acted as he'd expected and lashed out with its left hand, swinging at where it had last seen its prey.

Just as Godou had planned!

Well, perhaps saying it was planned was something of an overstatement. He hadn't thought it through; he'd just gone with his instincts, knowing that this was the right way to go, knowing that that this would take him from his enemy's sight, knowing that this was the right moment to dive to avoid getting hit. The same instincts that had allowed him to become a God Slayer in the first place served him well again. And right now those instincts were telling him to attack

"HHIIYAAH!"

The divine sword that was his servant cut through the air in a horizontal slash, biting deep into the wrist of the monster's right arm. The limb was thin, little more than skin and bones, but there was strength there. However even though this was a monster born of divine power the Ame No Murakumo No Tsurugi was a weapon of legend, a divinity in its own right, and so an existence that eclipsed the beast.

A roar of pain shattered the air and the limb parted, the claw-like hand severed entirely and the contorted body of the monster crashing to the ground as it lost its balance. A grin of triumph split Godou's face, this was a small victory, but he'd take what he could get, and he intended it to only be the first of many. However it was short lived as the creature's left leg suddenly came up in a way that would have been impossible for a normal human, and kicked up into the ceiling. Plasterboard, aluminium sheets and fibreglass came raining down about him, but he didn't shift his course.

He should have.

The head he was aiming for emerged from the obscuring dust like a sea monster coming out of the ocean. The head was twisted at an impossible angle, the eyes almost completely having reversed their position with the mouth, placing the jaws in a seemingly awkward position to bite. Again Godou didn't hesitate, he saw the beast coming at him and immediately responded by going with his first instinct. His original attack was abandoned; instead he turned his charge into a slide, his feet going out from under him as he slid under the head, thrusting his sword up as he did so.

Again he'd guessed right, even as he slid under the monster a torrent of black tar-like substance burst from the monster's mouth, jetting through the spot where the Devil King would have been had he continued his initial charge. At a glance Godou saw the black bile coat and cling to several displays, the manikins and products on them starting to melt as though having been dipped in acid, but he had no time to worry. Instead he focused on his sword thrust as he slipped under the beast's downward pointing forehead.

It was a prime opportunity; the Kusanagi heir lacked a good position to take advantage of it. Off balance as he was, without anything to push off from his thrust lacked the penetrating power it needed to punch through the beast's skull, even with his divine blade's supernatural sharpness. Even so Ame No Murakumo bit into both flesh and bone, not completely cutting through but certainly biting deep. Black blood oozed from the wound, dripping down as thickly as honey, but by then Godou was on the other side of the monster, scrabbling to his feet and turning to face it again.

Even though the face was little more than a skull the seventh Campione swore that he saw hatred distorting it as the creature contorted itself once more in order to turn and face its foe. One leg was still up thrust into the ceiling, the foot apparently imbedded in the concrete there in order to provide an anchor. The now handless arm still dripped blood, but was otherwise unhurt and held ready to use as a club. The other leg was bent in a way that should have left the beast's hips a shattered mess, and placed on the floor as though in waiting to sweep out. The unhurt hand was resting palm down on the floor, another point of balance, its claws digging into the carpet. The skull like head was twisted at a total right angle, more blood dripping from the ugly gash across the bald forehead. The posture of the thing should have been ridiculous, like a man that had tied himself in a knot and was unable to right himself, but it didn't. Instead the beast was more akin to a coiled spring, all barely contained energy and coiled potential.

Okay, the first exchange had gone in his favour, but he couldn't let himself get complacent. Taking off a hand would reduce its attack options some, but it was still very dangerous. He knew that it was trying to use its magic against hem, but he could also feel it washing off him like water against a stone. He could also see around it, out towards the shop front that he had been thrown though. It wasn't a clear view, not with al the tumbled shelves and displays in the way, but he could at least see something of the outside. It looked like the other monster was waiting near to the goddess, who herself had not yet moved. Not what he had been expecting, but it was to Godou's benefit. If all three of them had come at him at once then he'd have had no choice but to open up with his strongest Authorities straight away. Like this he could use his more reliable divine powers first, thus saving the limited use stuff for when it was needed.

A simple plan, but the difficulty was in the execution.

For a moment that was only seconds, but which felt far longer, God Slayer and divine beast just stared at each other, then they were both moving.

"Stronger than a thousand blades, and backed by a thousand storms, the Steel that will not break, will not shatter, will not falter!"

Godou yelled the words that came to him on pure instinct as he closed on his enemy, and as they left his throat he could feel both his magic and that of his sword respond to them. Spell words, words of power to awaken the powers of the sword Authority Ame No Murakumo No Tsurugi and to turn them loose upon his foe. The seventh Campione could feel the power stir, mixing with his own as the subordinate Authority stirred into wakefulness.

The sword that had once served Susanoo was one of the most absurdly flexible divine powers in his arsenal, though Godou knew that he was still far from expert in its use. He'd been able to do some impressive things with it before, such as launching the Monkey King and his brothers into the upper atmosphere or severing the false Ame No Murakumo that Shirou had made during their fight. That said, he was aware of some of what it could do since Ena had sat him down and made him listen to her list all of the virtues and abilities of the sword that Susanoo had lent to her. Sadly it hadn't all stuck, but one thing that the Kusanagi heir could recall was that the sword that was also called Grass-cutter had abilities related to its status as a sacred artefact, namely the dispelling of curses and spells.

Godou had heard about the other monsters on his way here, he'd heard what the agents of the History Compilation Committee had seen, what the others had done to people. These ones that he faced hadn't seemed to have anyone in range to effect as the others had, but given that the goddess had called them Envy and Hatred he doubted they were any less malevolent. Normal divine beasts were incarnations of attributes that identified with animals, but these monsters seemed to be more like negative attributes embodied. In other words curses made flesh.

And he had a sword that had a legend of being able to vanquish curses.

The monster's undamaged hand came at him, but the King of Disaster did not even try to dodge, instead he thrust his sword out before him, driving the point into the oncoming attack, pushing his own magic into it as he did so.

The limb seemed to explode into mist as the divine blade made contact. There was no sense of impact, no resistance of any sort, instead the flesh of the creature burst apart into vapour as though it were trying to get away from the sword that was stabbing into it. Godou was surprised, but he didn't stop, instead he kept on charging the entire arm falling apart before him as he continued his assault. In response the beast tried to evade, jerking itself upwards with the leg that was still imbedded into the ceiling so as to get out the path of the God Slayer's charge.

It wasn't enough though.

Godou saw the muscle bunch, saw the way those eyeless sockets seemed to flick upwards, and guessed the monster's intent. Again, he didn't think, he didn't plan, he just reacted. As the monster started to lift itself he altered his charge, no longer heading straight at the thing, instead he jumped at a shelf that had been tipped over by the monster's movements. It was lying on top of some broken manikins, so it ran at an angle making a slope. It wasn't perfect, but it would do for the black haired boys needs.

Charging at it, he ran along its length, then leapt off its end as though it were a springboard, sailing through the air, aiming at the spot where he thought the monster was going to be.

Godou was in pretty good shape, but even so he was no world class athlete, nor some natural talent in the use of parkour. His leap had more enthusiasm to commend it than it had grace or form. Even so he had the vitality of a Campione to back him, and the jump took him far enough that he found his vision being filled by the large shoulder of the creature as it began to lift itself up. His sudden change of direction seemed to have caught it by surprise, and it had lost sight of him for a moment as it had lifted itself and he had changed direction.

Simply put, it was open.

Midair combat was another thing that the elder of the Kusanagi siblings hadn't had much of a chance to get proficient in, but even so he had a general idea of the basics, namely that you hit the enemy with your weapon before you hit the floor. Hardly the most sophisticated strategy, but it would do for the moment. Fortunately he didn't need to do much, still flushed with power the divine sword continued to disintegrate the monster at a touch. Both god sword and God Slayer went through the beast's chest like a cannonball through mist, the monster's wail of pain and death cut off as more than half of its chest vanished into vapour.

The Devil King hit the floor, stumbled a few steps, but quickly regained his balance and spun back to face his enemy. He needn't have bothered though, all his swift turn earned him was the chance to see the beast lose its hold upon the concrete above it and come crashing down to the ruin of tiles, carpets, and plaster that the department store's floor had become.

The creature was in a sorry state, most of its chest gone, its remaining arm completely detached, and its hips only barely connected to the rest of it by what seemed to be loose skin. Even as he watched the thing let out a gurgling noise, then began to break up into lead coloured sand, that itself crumbled away into nothingness.

Alright, one down two to go.

Turning Godou made his way back to the store front that he and the creature had smashed in, Ame No Murakumo still gripped in his hand.


-()-


Circe was starting to feel an odd mixture of optimism and trepidation.

On the one hand it seemed as though the King that had come to face her was proving to be as powerful as she could have hoped for. Granted, he was only facing a single of the curse monsters that Ahriman had sent to 'aid' her, the other being restrained at her side by her own efforts, but he had faced the beast with minimal use of his Authorities, and still emerged the clear victor. That spoke well as to his strength, and to his cunning. She had faced some Devil Kings in the past, and those that roared and unleashed their greatest powers immediately might have been the more intimidating sort, but in the end they were not as dangerous as those that paced themselves and held their greater powers back. This Kusanagi Godou seemed to be of the second type, and that would fit in well with her plans

On the other hand the source of the slight fear that was plaguing her was whether or not she was doing the wisest thing. Yes, she was preparing to betray Odysseus and Ahriman. Yes, it was the only course of action left open to her, other than following them meekly until their madness consumed her as well. Yes, it would leave her in a dangerously unstable position. But when all of that had been sifted through this was a gamble, and it was not yet one to which she was fully committed.

She could still pull back; still continue on her path, self destructive though it might be. Its virtue was that it would not put her in the path of the gods that were her current 'allies', though it might well lead to her damnation in other ways. Some part of her, a tiny and cowardly part that she had never known existed in her divine heart, wanted to take this option. She knew that madness or death might well await her along such a route, but as long as it meant she didn't have to make her terrifying companions her enemies then that part of her was willing to do it.

A crunch of glass brought her out of her considerations and she looked up to see that the young Devil King was emerging from the mortal shop that Envy had struck him into before. Of Hatred, the monster that had followed him in, there was no sign, hardly a surprise since she had just felt the passing of the embodied curse.

It was hardly a surprise that the monster would have fallen before the Campione; she had not been expecting anything else. As large and powerful as the curse beasts that Ahriman had created were they were unsuited to face the adopted children of Pandora. The strength of the divine curses lay in their power to inflict themselves upon mortals, and then gorge themselves upon the power that the mortal souls released as they drowned in the curse of the monsters. It would be frightfully easy for such beasts to depopulate towns and cities as their feeding nurtured them and allowed them to extend their reach, only to repeat it again and again until the entire local population had been subsumed. It was a fearsome power, but one that was sadly impotent in the face of the magic resistance of a God Slayer. Unless they released their curse in the form of some sort of miasma it would roll right off the Devil Kings without affecting them. Deprived of their most potent advantage the curse monster was merely a moderately powerful divine servant, not a being that had much of a chance against a Campione.

This was it, the moment that she had to make her decision. She could support Envy as it attacked the King, something that would not be difficult for her. All she needed to do was steal his Authorities as he tried to use them, simple enough. With the monster attacking as she did so it would not be difficult for her to ensure it emerged victorious; all it would take was the theft of his divine powers at the right point to leave him vulnerable. It would even be to her benefit, now that she gave it more thought. If she stole enough of his Authorities then perhaps she would be strong enough to force Odysseus and Ahriman to leave her alone after this was all done?

The idea had some merit. Her body was in dire conditions due to the injuries that she had suffered, but her magic remained intact. By stealing more Authorities she might be able to feed her divinity enough that it would begin to restore her body. It was uncertain, but it did have possibilities. And with the added power it wasn't entirely impossible that she could make herself a hard enough target to dissuade her 'companions' from coming after her. Odysseus was the lesser threat of the two, so long as she was able to keep him from ensnaring her in some of the Authorities he had then it would be doable. As a hero god, no matter how insane he might be now, he was vulnerable to having his Authorities stolen by her. That should be enough to keep her somewhat safe from him. It was Ahriman that was the greater concern. Still, if she could augment herself enough then perhaps she could do the same with 'him', become too much trouble to deal with?

It was a possibility, but it was not one that was safe or certain. Her other option . . .

"So, are you going to tell me who you are? You already know who I am, if you won't tell me who you are then it's hardly fair."

That caught her somewhat by surprise; she hadn't been expecting the Campione to try to once more initiate conversation between them. It was more on reflex than anything else that she named herself and her title to him.

"This goddess is Circe, Daughter of the Dawn and Maiden of Magic!"

Her declaration seemed to take the young King aback, because he looked at her with somewhat puzzled eyes.

"Circe? Like from the Odyssey? Why are you here making trouble then?"

Despite the seriousness of the situation the maiden goddess could not help but puff her cheeks slightly in irritation. She had been a goddess worshipped by thousands, men and women had come on pilgrimages to her isle in order to study at her feet, entire herds of cattle, sheep and horses had been sacrificed in her name, and yet for all that the only thing anyone seemed to remember her for was her encounter with Odysseus. The meeting hadn't even been that antagonistic, he and his crew had landed on her shores, and as the wide eyed maiden that she was naturally she fell in love with the handsome hero that led them. He had in no way been displeased with her advances, and the two of them had been blissfully happy for many a moon.

Then he had decided to leave her, and she had not been ready to let him leave. Things had grown more than a bit intense, she turning his crew into livestock and stealing some of his Authorities, he calling in a favour from Hermes and threatening to hurt her. Eventually he had left her, and that had been that. However in the retelling their encounter had grown into something far more epic and momentous, and that had been what she had been remembered for.

Vexing! Vexing to say the least.

"It is most boorish of you to bring up a maiden's past in such a way, Kusanagi-sama! One would have hoped that for a more chivalrous behaviour from one of the two Supreme Rulers of this land."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

Circe's felt an eyebrow start to rise at that, though she was able to keep it from becoming noticeable. So, it would seem that this Devil King had some manners, that was a pleasing development. It was preferable to deal with someone courteous rather than a brute.

"SSSSHHHHHHHHSSSSSSSSS!"

The rasping hiss from the beast beside her was enough to interrupt her fumbling for words. Up until now the monster had remained at her side, held there by her command. Ahriman had granted her a certain amount of control over the beasts that he'd sent with her, but it only went so far. Up until now she'd been able to force it to stay at her side to ensure her safety, but now that its prey was right in front of them her leash upon it was fraying.

"It would seem there is no time to discuss matters!" She declared, standing upon her brass legs. "Envy will wait no longer, and even if you should defeat it I shall still remain. And beyond me are the siblings of these beasts, and beyond them the ones that created them. Do you think that you can vanquish them all, Son of Pandora?"

"We'll see, I'm not going to just let you do as you please."

There was no fear or despair in his voice or his stance and he readied himself, just a determined defiance. He really was prepared to fight them all. Well, that was hardly a surprise, if he were a coward, one that could be intimidated by overwhelming odds, then he would never have been able to become a Campione in the first place. It was pleasant to once more gaze upon a valorous hero.

That was it, that moment was when she made her choice.

"O, one who derives enjoyment from flames, please bestow your pleasures upon us."

The Authority responded to her will and in an instant a great eagle manifested itself above her. This was divine beast with a wingspan larger than any natural bird of its breed could have possessed, its feathers shimmering with a sheen that was more lustrous and beautiful than any mortal avian could have possibly possessed. The beat of its wings raised tiny cyclones about her, dust swirling as it opened its beak and let out a shrill cry.

She could see the eyes of the young King widen slightly as he took it in. She could see him taking the measure of her beast, weighing its presence, trying to determine how strong it was. Could its strength combined with that of Envy be enough to threaten him? If that was the case then which of them was the weaker, the target he should try to dispatch first? All of this was clear upon his face, and the fire goddess took a certain pleasure in the knowledge that she had given him such pause, but she didn't let it distract her.

Even as her divine beast finished releasing its cry the power of her spell words took hold of it. Feathers that had been gleaming in the meagre mortal lights suddenly flared up and then burst into flame. The eagle released another cry, but this time it was of exaltation rather than defiance. There was no pain there, only joy as the bird of prey was engulfed in fire, then became the fire itself. In the space of a heartbeat she was no longer attended by a beast of flesh and blood, instead it was a bird of living flames that answered her call.

"Kill!"

Circe uttered the single command, and her newly forged servant rushed to obey.

It all took place in the space of a single instant. She could see King Kusanagi tightening his grip upon his sword as he readied himself for battle. She could see the flare of light as her subordinate divinity gathered itself to fulfil her order. She could see the bunching of muscles as Envy prepared to lash out once more. That one moment seemed to last far longer than it should have as she watched her decision play out. Then everything returned to normal in a blur of action.

The bird of fire screeched again, then veered to the side to slam into the scaled form of Envy.

The movement was a sharp one, and it came swiftly enough to catch the curse beast by surprise. The huge snakehead had been focused upon the God Slayer before it, and was unable to react in time before the firebird's form slammed into it just where its neck met the nest of scaled tendrils. All it could do was let out a shrieking hiss before her divine beast detonated itself, using all of its flame up in a single moment of violent splendour.

The blast was powerful enough to crater the ground beneath the serpentine beast and send it flying to the side. Flames consumed several of the scaled tendrils and scored a huge wound into its side large enough to drive a chariot through. With a sound like a falling tower the creation of Ahriman toppled over, its unharmed limbs thrashing more in pain than in any sort of attempt to deal harm. For his part the Devil King just stared, apparently caught off guard by this sudden change of events.

"Swiftly!" Circe called to him. "The wound is grave, but Ahriman's creations are strong! Swiftly kill it Kusanagi-sama!"

Her shout was enough to rouse him to action, though she could see him consider it for a moment. That went towards strengthening her faith that she had made the correct choice, that he thought about the situation rather than simply lashing out was a good sign of intelligence. It was not hesitation; she would have seen that, instead it was consideration, followed by swift decision.

The dark haired Campione closed the gap between himself and the downed monster with commendable speed, and he didn't hesitate for an instant. Even though the able limbs of Envy were still thrashing about, he tore past them and swung his sword at the neck of the monster, just above the spot where her bird had impacted. The first blow bit in deeply, but was unable to get too far due to the strength of the beast's bones and scales. The second swing cut in deeper, this time reaching all the way to monster's spine, letting out a torrent of dark green blood. The third blow didn't cut at all; instead it disintegrated the flesh of the beast that it touched.

Its head severed, the immortality of the monster collapsed before the greater divinity of the sword, and in a few minutes there was nothing left save sand like particles that were fading as the power that sustained them exhausted itself.

The goddess looked upon the sword that King Kusanagi had used with interest, as he turned to face her. That was a surprisingly powerful Authority, and one that was surprisingly flexible for one in the form of a weapon. Most such divine Authorities were straightforward in that they simply applied greater force, but this one seemed to do something differently. It had tasted the nature of the foe in its first few strikes, then, once it had learnt from that, it had completely dissipated the curse that had been the underlying foundation of the creature's existence. A surprisingly subtle and potent effect.

"Why did you attack it?"

Well, she had been expecting this question. Fortunately, she was quite certain of her reply.

The cloth that had been circling her settled onto her form in a manner not dissimilar to a shawl falling on her shoulders. As this happened she went down to one knee and let her arms fall at her sides, the palms of her hands open and empty. Even as she bowed her head Circe could not believe that it had come to this. She was a goddess, a being of divinity and power that had made other deities run from her in fear. How had it come to this? How had she allowed things to devolve to the point that this seemed like the best option available to her? Well, too late to turn back now. With the destruction of Envy she was committed to her choice.

"King Kusanagi, I entreat you to extend your protection to me so that I might come under your reign. In return I offer my knowledge, my power, and my loyalty, to serve at your will for so long as the agreement between us remains."

Well, that was it; she'd made her offer, now all that remained was to see how it was taken by the seventh Campione.

"Errr . . . what?"

That . . . had not been what she was expecting.

"King Kusanagi, I am offering to serve you in exchange for you stand with me against u mutual foes!"

"What? Who are we against?!"

He seemed genuinely bewildered, and Circe began to wonder if maybe she should have taken a chance on the other King to live in this land. Certainly, he already had divinities serving him, but he seemed to be a bit faster on the uptake than this one.

"My allies, the ones that created those beasts and unleashed them upon this mortal city, are insane. I no longer wish to pursue the same goals as them, but I fear that were I to leave them then I would become a dangerous loose thread that they felt would be best severed. As such I may not leave without entering the protection of a liege that could defend me from them. It is the hope of this goddess that you would be willing to provide that protection in exchange for what has been offered."

King Kusanagi blinked at that, apparently unsure of how to respond. He was opening his mouth to say something when a young girl in the robes of a shrine maiden suddenly came running over to his side. As she arrived and clutched at the God Slayer's arm the fire goddess had to tamp down an instinctual surge of jealousy. The young man was her target, and hopefully her future liege, and by her nature she was something of a jealous goddess. She did not like other women, mortal women at that, being around what she hoped would be hers. However, she did her best to dismiss such feelings; they were not ones that she could afford. She was not coming into this as an equal, and she would need to conform to her king's wishes rather than alter him to hers.

When had the world become so complicated? Whatever had happened to the days when she could simply do whatever she wanted without concern as to the consequences?

"Godou-san, wait a moment!"

The brown haired girl's voice brought her out of her thoughts and back to the matter at hand.

"Yuri?"

"I think that it would be best to accept Circe-sama's offer. Take her into your service and allow her to stand at your side!"

Oh, so the mortal girl was speaking up in her favour? Well, if that was the case then Circe was willing to be gracious in her forgiveness. Actually, now that she got a better look at the girl, it might be wrong to consider her simply another mortal child. There was divine blood in her, diluted by generations of marriage with mortals, but the trace of it was still there, and surprisingly strong. Normally it would not have been of any great concern to the goddess of the Dawn, but since the girl was speaking for her, the knowledge that the girl had a distant ancestry of divinity made it a bit more palatable.

"But . . . what? Why do say that?"

"Don't you remember that discussion from a couple of days ago? If Circe-sama is willing to take your side and become an ally then you should welcome her!"


-()-


All Godou could do was stare at her. She could not be serious! That! That had been a joke, right?

Even as he thought that he realized how naive the thought was. This was Erica's plan, and as much as he cared for the blonde mage knight it didn't change the fact that she didn't operate on the same sort of common sense that he regarded as being correct. After all, she was the one that had decided that Yuri should be his 'second woman' only a few minutes after meeting her. Of course she would be completely serious about him seducing a goddess to his side.

Well, at least it didn't look like he was going to have to seduce her, not that he had much of an idea as to how he would. He had a sort of vague idea of using some lines he'd heard in a film some time ago, but that seemed more ludicrous than sensible.

Huh, maybe this was a good thing, now that he thought about it. If he was able to get a goddess on his side this way then maybe Erica would drop the whole 'Seduce Athena' plan.

"Okay, let me see if I've got this right. You want me to protect you from your allies, and in return you'll help me out?"

"A rather simple way to phrase it, King Kusanagi, but accurate enough. I shall be your ally and swear to serve you as you so choose."

"So . . . who are your allies, and why do you need protection from them?"

Those were things that he needed to know. So far they'd been operating on the thought that there was only one deity around, but the way she spoke made it sound as though there were more to deal with. Not good, very, very not good.

"I was ally to Odysseus; it was us that sought to slay your fellow King upon that distant isle in order to gain the magic that lies hidden in his soul."

Alright, that single sentence answered one question, then went on to raise several more in its place. Why was Odysseus her ally, hadn't they been enemies in their legend? What did they mean about magic hidden in Shirou's soul? He knew about the gods that had attacked the eighth Campione while he'd been on vacation, but as far as he knew nobody had been able to identify the attackers, or if they had then nobody told him. Still, for two gods to go after the same thing, the only other times he'd seen that had been when the Monkey King called up his sworn brothers, and then that whole mess with Venus, Tiamat, Jord, and Athena. Having multiple gods involved always made things complicated.

"King Emiya was able to drive us off though, and during the battle something happened to Odysseus, something I thought impossible."

That sounded interesting.

"What?"

"I do not know, I only know that during his battle with Emiya-sama some portion of the magic he sought to gain manifested into a tear between worlds. Odysseus looked into it, and when he returned to me he had been driven mad."

There was a gasp at his side, and he looked to see that Yuri had brought her hands up to her mouth in shock.

"Circe-sama, that . . . that can't be! Gods cannot go mad!"

"So thought I." The goddess replied, rising from her kneeling position.

Godou was shocked to see that she actually looked . . . scared. That was something he'd never seen in a god before. He'd seen them in pain, he'd seen them enraged, he'd seen them exultant, he'd seen them resigned, but never had he ever seen them afraid of anything. Verethragna had been literally falling apart in his last moments, but he'd seemed more satisfied than anything else. Apollo had been burnt to a crisp and been in agonising pain, but all he'd displayed to the very end had been unrelenting hatred. Even Tiamat, when Jord had betrayed her and torn out her power, had only shown sadness, pain and humiliation, never fear.

"He was a hero, and a god that had taken the role of a hero in order to travel, to seek a kingdom, to seek a mortal wife. He overcame countless obstacles, untold hardships, and he found his kingdom, he found his wife, and he saved them both." The goddess paused for a moment before continuing. "He was a hero, and after leaving that isle he spoke of sacrificing mortals in order to increase his power, he spoke of killing men, children, then began to comment that maidens would serve best.

"Afterwards, he chose another route, though some part of this goddess' heart wishes that he had chosen to sacrifice mortals. It would have been a terrible thing, but in many ways it would not have been as bad was the path that he chose to follow."

"Worse than sacrificing children?!"

The question burst out of Godou before he could give it any real thought, but he didn't think he would have stopped it if he could have. Something like that, it was more horrible than any of the gods he had faced. Sure Sun Wukong had changed every mortal within the scope of his Authority into a monkey, but that had just been him acting in accordance with his nature. Apollo had been consumed with anger and hatred, but it had all been directed and had a target, namely at the Campione. Something like that though, it went too far.

"Indeed, he chose to bring Ahriman back into the world."

"Who?"

In response to her reply the seventh adopted child of Pandora could only ask his question in bafflement. He knew a bit about the mythologies of the world, but the name was not one he recognized. It wasn't Babylonian or Greek, he was pretty certain of that. He didn't think it was Norse either, but that was about the limit of his knowledge.

"Ahriman?!"

The single word question was whispered by Yuri, and when he turned to look at her Godou was surprised to find that her face had gone pale. She hadn't acted like that even when faced with Athena or Voban. Granted she had been afraid, but she hadn't been as scared as she was acting now.

"Do you know who that is?"

Yuri nodded, her hands unconsciously hugging herself as she explained.

"Ahriman is the great Persian God of Evil, and one of the most feared of the known deities in the world. They appeared in the world during the fourteenth century in their native lands of Persia. Travelled west on the Silk Road, and left death and disaster on a scale almost never seen before. A Campione was called to face them, but another god interfered, all three disappeared, and none have heard of them since."

She paused for a moment, then looked Godou straight in the eyes, her own wide and afraid.

"Godou, if they are here then we have to stop them; we can't let Ahriman wander free."

Alright, now he was starting to get a bit worried. Even when Athena had begun to release her primal darkness upon Tokyo Yuri hadn't sounded so . . . panicked. What was it about this deity that had her so worried?

"Hey, Yuri, calm down. We've taken down dangerous gods before; we can do it again if we have to."

His words were meant to reassure her, but the Hime-Miko simply shook her head.

"No, Godou, you don't understand. You're strong, so I don't doubt that you could win, it is the aftermath that I'm scared of, the . . . fallout."

"You should pay heed to your mortal woman," Circe said, causing Godou to stiffen as he realized how close she'd been able to get while he'd been concerned with Yuri. "The last time Ahriman unleashed their full bile upon the world the number of dead could have populated this city several times over."

That . . . all the seventh Devil King could do was blink at that, his mind trying to grasp what had been said. What? Just . . . what? Tokyo was a city with a population in the millions, several times over, what could have possibly killed so many?

"The Black Death."

"Huh?"

"When the plague first emerged Ahriman had . . . done something. Nobody knows if they made the disease, or made it deadlier, or made it more virulent, all that's known is that they did something to it, and then . . ."

The seventh Campione could only stare at her. Sure, the Black Death wasn't something that was popularly mentioned in Japan, but as possibly the greatest example of plague in human history it did get touched on in history classes. The Black Death, the Bubonic Plague, had been the terror of old Europe. He remembered his teacher mentioning it when he'd been thirteen, saying how out of it killed something like one in every three people across the continent, how the death toll reached into the dozens of millions at the very least. It had only been the subject of a couple of lessons, but the image of the fear, the dead, and those plague doctors with their crow masks has stuck with him.

This . . . this could be very bad.

"Ah, I see that you are beginning to understand how grave the situation is."

The goddess' voice brought his attention back to her, and Godou saw that she had backed away slightly, giving him more room.

"You understand now, why I call Odysseus mad for rousing Ahriman from the isolation they had hidden in? Do you know what they have been doing for the centuries since they descended to this world? They have been tormenting the bodies of the gods and God Slayers that stood against them . . . for . . . centuries! Do you understand that? They killed those that stood against them, then forced their bodies to live again and has spent the last six hundred years doing nothing but visiting every torment they can conceive upon them! Every moment of every day of every year for all this time, that is all they have done!"

Godou just blinked as he tried to wrap his head around the sheer enormity of what she was describing to him. Doing nothing but torturing those that had stood against . . . him? Her? Circe had been unclear as to the gender of this Ahriman. Whatever the case they sounded crazy, and scary crazy at that, not the normal 'not getting it that hurting other people is a bad thing' crazy that most gods seemed to be afflicted with.

Okay, okay, try and look at this rationally. First, he needed a bit more information.

"Why did Ahriman agree to help Odysseus?"

That was something he needed to know, motivations were always important when dealing with gods, it helped him get something of a grip on their characters.

"Odysseus told them that King Emiya had claimed dominion over the curses of mankind's evil. This enraged Ahriman, the thought that any other than them would possess such a dominion was one they could not abide."

She paused for a moment then visibly shuddered.

"I have seen much of this world, but never have I seen such wrath as when they realised that the evils belonged to another!"

"King Shirou's first Authority is known as Curses Without End," Yuri chimed in. "It isn't known which god he slew in order to gain it, but whichever god it was must have been very evil, just their presence was enough to destroy many of the mortals about it when it appeared."

"Whatever the case," Circe stated. "Ahriman is fixated upon destroying King Emiya and regaining the power that has been 'stolen' from them, and they will stop at nothing to accomplish it!"

"They're going after Shirou?"

Honestly, Godou wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that. He knew how strong the eighth Campione was, he'd been on the receiving end of that power after all. He'd faced dangerous foes, but the King of Steel under the control of Venus had been a monster in a league of its own. He couldn't imagine how anyone provoking such a beast would be able to survive it. Sure, Shirou wasn't normally that ruthless when he was in control of himself, but even so his fellow Japanese King was a formidable foe to face.

"I know that King Emiya is strong," the Goddess of the Dawn acknowledged. "I have felt his power command the Land and break the barriers between worlds, I know something of his strength. However, he will never be able to defeat Ahriman, not as she is now."

"She?"

Why was she calling Ahriman a 'she' now? And why did she think Shirou could never win?

"How do you believe the god of man's evils would seek to destroy the one that offended them?" Circe's voice had taken on a decidedly dark tone. "We have his sister, and Ahriman knew well what they could do to use her against her brother. After all, what better shield against a foe is there than one that they love, one they would never harm?"

"They're going to use Illya-chan as a hostage against Shirou?"

That didn't make much sense, at least not given what Godou knew of his fellow King. Shirou had lots of Authorities, but that 'World Marble' of his gave him an enormous number of options. True, the seventh Campione had no way of knowing what kind of powers those weapons he had possessed, but given how many there were it didn't really matter.

"No," the goddess with brass limbs shook her head. "Ahriman has taken the girl's body for their own; they live within her flesh, pushed her soul aside and used her form for their own ends. They battle King Emiya to the death while wearing the life that he seeks to save. How can he strike back? How can he flee? To attack is to harm the one he seeks to save, to flee is to abandon her. Even worse for him is that the longer the battle between them lasts then the more his sister will suffer as the power of Ahriman strains her from within. Should the combat last too long then it shall merely be a question of which shall break first, her flesh or her soul."

Godou felt his blood start to go cold as he listened to her. That . . . that might well be enough to kill Shirou. Godou didn't consider himself to be his fellow King's best friend or anything like that, but he did think he had a fairly decent handle on his personality. Even a blind man could see how much he cared for his sister, and Godou was certain that he would let himself be killed before he did her any harm. Of course, there was the other option, namely that he was unaware of all the details of the situation and accidentally killed Illya-chan while trying to save her. That was even more chilling, because the King of Disaster had a general idea of what Shirou might do in revenge if that happened and Ahriman was still around.

Tokyo might well not survive that level of rage by the eighth Campione.

This . . . this could be bad. Very, very bad.


-()-


Illya was not exactly conscious, not in any conventional sense.

She could feel, she could see, but her mind wasn't operating upon the normal levels that it normally did. The closest that she would have come to this state in her normal life would have been when she was dreaming. Though perhaps a more accurate metaphor would have been when she was having a nightmare.

Images floated before her, distorted pictures that she would have thought seemed to have little resemblance to reality, had she been more aware. Instead her mind recoiled from them trying to reject the images of her attacking Shirou, of trying to hurt him with her Berserker, of telling him to die.

-But you told him that before, didn't you?-

The voice whispered to her, not speaking to her directly, but rather trying to insinuate itself into her thoughts without her registering it.

-You told him to die before; you tried to kill him before. You hated him; you wanted him to die, to suffer, to pay for what he stole from you! You remember that, the anger, the resentment, did you really think that you could just throw it all away?-

Again her mind shied away from what was being whispered to her, but even as she did the memories came to her unbidden. Her actions during the Holy Grail War had been driven by a desire for someone to pay for all that she had lost and all that she'd had to suffer. Initially she'd wanted it to be her father, whom she'd thought had abandoned her, but when she learnt he was dead she had chosen to have Shirou pay in his stead. She'd had such plans, such cruel and vicious plans of what she was going to do to him. Looking back on it now she as ashamed of herself, revolted at what she had intended to do to the boy she now held so dearly in her heart.

-But is it really so wrong to resent him? Doesn't he ignore you? Isn't his heart set on getting back to the girl he loves? Isn't his lover more precious to him than you? And what about the others that flock about him? The girl whose mother he saved? What of the goddess that he spared, or the other goddess that he took into his service, even the Handmaiden that swore herself to him? Does he not pay them more attention as the days go by? Does he not start to ignore you and favour them instead?-

Illya tried to push the thoughts away, even if she wasn't awake her disciplined mind tried to force them to be silent. But even though she tried they began to slip in. How could they not, these were thoughts that she'd had on her own many times before. These were the results of petty jealousies and dark moments.

The whispers continued, and the Einzbern heiress did her best to try to ignore them, but it was a losing battle. Bit by bit she was being forced in upon herself, being forced to curl up tighter and tighter as she instinctively tried to ward of the insidious whispers.

She was strong, a strong will, a strong personality. Had she not been then she would have broken years ago under the weight of the training and pressure that the Einzbern family had forced upon her. She'd endured it, she'd endured their adjustments to her body and magic circuits, she'd endured the pain that came from having to support such a massive presence as Berserker months before the Holy Grail War officially began. She'd endured the mental pressure of knowing that she would soon die, of knowing that Sella and Leysritt, two of the only people in the world that cared about her, were going to die as well. She'd endured it all, and it hadn't broken her. But it had left her fragile.

Now this voice, these whispers, were worming their way in past the mental defences that she had erected through the course of her life.

-Is he all that different from the one that left you? Is he all that different from the one that you hate? Do you know that he will never turn on you? Do you know that he'll never abandon you as well?-

They wouldn't stop, they wouldn't relent, all they continued to do was whisper the same insecurities and secret thoughts that she had tried to bury away in the deepest depths of her mind.

-Maybe you should kill him; it is the only way to be sure. Kill him now, when he still cares, then he will never abandon you, he will never stop caring. Wouldn't that be wonderful? Wouldn't it be bliss to never have to worry about him leaving you again? He would live on in your heart, always loving you, always caring, isn't that what you want?-

She wasn't thinking in words, her mind wasn't in a suitable state to do so. Instead all she could do was wail in mixture of distress and anger. A wordless howl that tried to drown the whispering out, only to fail.

-But how would you kill him? How would you overcome him? He is a God Slayer, and you are but a girl with magic, so how would you slay him?-

Unbidden thoughts rose up in her mind, hypothetical scenarios that she'd concocted as little more than thought exercises. Poison in his food, spells that would deny him air and leave him to suffocate regardless of his strength, specialist spells that could potentially break Shirou's Traced weapons if used correctly, not many options, but there were some.

-Good, good. That is the way, that is how you want it. Show me more, show me how he can be slain, how he can be broken, how he can be destroyed!-

No, no, no, no, NO! She thought it without words, without thought, without anything. All it was was a great mass of denial boiling up from the centre of her soul as she tried to scream out in defiance of the whispers that would not leave her be.

-Tell me!-

No!

-TELL ME!-

No!

-TeLl MeEeEEee!-

NO!

-TttEeeLllLL mMMmEEeeEEE!!-

Illya was cracking, breaking under the pressure as the whispers grew into screams that tore into her mind. They were no longer trying to influence her, instead they were ripping at her, clawing, grabbing. She knew they weren't exerting their full strength against her, if they did then she would have shattered, her strength was nowhere near enough to resist. Instead they were trying to pry her open without breaking her, but she was resisting with all the unconscious will she possessed.

She would resist, she wouldn't give in!

And she'd make whatever was attacking her pay!

Illyasviel Von Einzbern was a sweet girl, but she was also a vengeful one. She was not awake, she was not conscious, but the sleeping part of her still recognized that she was under attack, and that the attacker was trying to make her hurt her dear Onii-chan. That was all that part of her needed in order to make the choice to seek retribution upon her attacker. It was without words, without thoughts, but it was a resolution that might as well have been cut into stone.

That resolution fed into her subconscious, giving her strength to hold on, to continue to resist.

To resist and wait for a chance. Now, if only it would come.


-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-


ΑλυσίδεςτουΠρομηθέα: The Chain of Prometheus

Type – Anti-Divinity/ Anti-Greek Divinity

Rank – D (Situational: A)

Range – 1-25

No of Targets – 1

This Noble Phantasm is a mortal creation forged using the broken remains of the chains that once held the Titan Prometheus in place while he was suffering through the torture that Zeus sentenced him to. When the Titan was later freed by Heracles at the commands of the King of Olympus the broken remains of his restraints fell to the earth below and were found by a mortal blacksmith and were forged into new chains. These chains retained their power to restrain divinities of the lands of Greece, and were used by the mortal king Sisyphus to bind the death god Hades when he came to claim him. Their power proven the Greek Gods grew wary of the chain and had one of their worshippers transport it to the heart of the African continent. There it was used to capture and enslave minor divine spirits, but its true potential was never realized since it was never again used against a Greek deity.

In form this Noble Phantasm is a twelve foot long length of chain with vicious spikes at each end. In combat the chain responds to the user's will like an additional limb, moving freely like a tendril. It's speed and strength are not overly impressive, but the chain is surprisingly durable, and if broken can be fixed simply by pressing the broken ends together. However it is not as an instrument of war that the chain best serves, but rather as a tool of binding.

True to its original function this Noble Phantasm is capable of restraining divine beings and completely suppressing their power, thus rendering them largely helpless. However, this effect can only be invoked at full power against a divinity of Greek origin, since its power is derived from its restraint of Prometheus and Hades. Against divinities from other lands the effect is considerably reduced, to the point where it can only successfully bind minor servant spirits rather than the gods themselves. In this capacity it works quite well, enough so that many lesser spirits can be rendered helpless and so be subjected to bindings or subjugation.

In the Nasuverse the true power of this Noble Phantasm has been lost for centuries due to the end of the Age of Gods and the corresponding lack of divine entities. As such many magi have possessed this Noble Phantasm and thought it to simply be an ancient Mystic Code, and not too strong a one at that. It was later briefly owned by EMIYA before his death and was one of the first Noble Phantasms added to his Reality Marble without coming from the fifth Holy Grail War.

Despite its uses this Noble Phantasm has proven to be somewhat useless to both EMIYA and Shirou due to its limitations and the enemies they have encountered. Since the Chain was originally broken by Heracles it is largely useless against Berserker as he would be able to shatter it with relative ease, which was why Archer didn't use it against him in the Holy Grail War. In the Campione world it has some greater utility since its nature does allow it to bind the divinities of this new world, but it has had a lack of suitable targets. Perseus might have been susceptible to its effects, but at that point Shirou had not yet gained full access to the Noble Phantasms stored in his Reality Marble due to not having yet fully integrated the soul fragments of his alternate selves. The same is true of Hades.