Chapter 10:

Hunting in the Rain

The roar of the autumn wind fought for dominance with the monotone clatter of the chilly rain. The clouds that had been gathering since sunset had now fully covered the night sky, hiding both moon and stars and making it seem like the heavens had turned into one endless black hole. The only light entering through the broken panoramic window came from the seemingly endless neon parade which enveloped the city every night.

But none of the occupants of the spacious office could be bothered by the lackluster lightning in that rather… tense moment.

"I had that window changed this very afternoon!" exclaimed Alexander, sounding almost genuinely hurt. The suit-clad man currently getting his head crushed as the silver-haired mage hanged him out of said window could only gurgle angrily in response.

"Honestly," continued Assassin's Master and shook his head in emphasis, his long ponytail swishing in unison. "What kind of tactless idiocy is just barging in through my door, guns ablazing? I realize the other members of the board would be furious after I basically flipped you all off at VEXA and joined the War, but jeez… talk about having a short fuse. Hell, you're all technically my employees, too! Some assassins you are, trying to kill the guy who pays you."

Once again, Alexander found his little speech answered by only a few short gurgles. Well, the man did try to shoot him in the face as well but all the bullet did was get flattened at the crystalline armor which covered the silver-haired mage's cheek and eye in an instant, seemingly growing out of his very skin. Understandably, amused, Alexander was not.

"That. Does it," plainly stated the man, sounding more irritated than actually angry. "Trust me, my soon to be deceased friend, inwardly I'm pissed. But you know what? I'm angry at myself. I should've killed you along with the rest," he said and gestured with the bluish-white crystalline blade currently substituting for his right arm at the dozen or so corpses currently littering the place.

"Their idiocy, you see, was somewhat understandable. Sure, they've heard of me. Everyone has heard what I'm capable of. But since we're all people of science here… or, well, at least its pseudo-thaumathurgical version," said Alexander and shrugged. "It was normal for them to be skeptic and call bullshit on it. So they came in, I showed them the color of their innards, end of story! Hell, as a member of the board I'll probably have their families receive compensation for such a freak work accident. But you actually think you can kill me after seeing what I did to them? How did we hire an idiot like you in the first place? You know what? No compensation for your family- you're fired."

The scream that came out of the man's throat was beyond description. As if someone had set his insides on fire and started shredding them all one by one, while pouring salt on them simultaneously, the dying hitman could only howl as sparkling crystals colored bluish-white grew all over his body, like some twisted glittery version of cancer. At the same time, the crystals covering Alexander's skin retracted, as if they were being transferred into the dying man. Finally, after half a minute of near-constant shrieking, the man could scream no more. The dead had the habit of being rather silent, after all.

"My, it's good to be free of the pain for a bit!" cheerfully exclaimed the silver-haired mage as he dropped the crystal-covered corpse through the window.

"Master, with all due respect," almost meekly said Assassin as she appeared out of thin air next to him but the mage just raised his hand to hush her.

"Do you think he'll hit someone when he reaches the bottom?" asked Alexander and his grey eyes turned downwards, like the eyes of a child wondering what would happen if he introduced some ants to a magnifying glass. "I've always wondered if I can kill a man by dropping another man on top of him. Imagine that."

"Well, yes, but Master-"

The poor fiery-haired Servant was interrupted by the untimely ringing of the phone atop the desk. As he picked it up, the silver-haired mage concluded that his Servant looked almost like a kicked puppy in that instance, if that was even possible for someone hiding her face under a bleach-white skull mask.

"Why, hello there, Mother!" said Alexander and plopped down onto his rather bloody president chair. "Would I be picking up if I wasn't alive, what kind of a question is that? Yes, yes my 'going rogue' shtick turned out to be successful enough to turn our own people on me, apparently. I guess both Elysion and VEXA would be going on a merry little chase after me. I'm under whose protection as a Master? The Church? Well, now that's a convenience for you."

Assassin was all but covering her mouth in meekness as she watched her Master talk his mouth off and play with the phone's wire.

"Yeah, yeah, Mother, relax. I'll get that Grail thingie for you. It's kinda hurtful, you know. Until a few years ago this little shiny spider was your favorite but now I have to share your attention not only with that little harlot, I mean, Charlotte of yours, but with your new pet project? Seraph? Who's in charge of thinking up the stupid names in the company anyway? We have to fire him, I'm telling you! Wha-"

Alexander looked at his Servant incredulously.

"She hung up on me!"

"How, uhm, rude of her," said Assassin, concluding that those were the words her Master wanted to hear. "What I wanted to ask you, Master, is that… well, isn't it dangerous for you to do the fighting like right now? With your condition unnecessary fighting is dangerous and I would have easily disposed of-"

"Aw, is my precious little Assassin worried about me?" cut her off the silver-haired mage and cupped his Servant's face in his hand, leaning in close enough to feel her ragged breath. "Or are you just scared you will have to share my pain again?" asked Alexander, vice growing as cold as ice. The mage's lightless grey eyes bore into the black holes in Assassin's mask.

"No, Master, I would never-"

"There was something else you've been wanting to ask me right?"

"This-this woman… why are you calling her 'Mother'? I thought you planned to-"

"Just a habit of mine, I guess," replied Alexander and, finally letting go off her face, waved his hand for emphasis. "True, I may have been her glorified lab-rat but she's been the one constantly there for me since I could remember. No matter how twisted it is, the White Queen has some kind of perverted motherly instincts for her projects. She may rule over the Board of Directors from the shadows but to us she showed her face and shared her name. Plus, Miss Harwey's the reason I got out of that orphanage and gave me this life of luxury. The only price I had to pay for the gift that turned me into probably the most powerful man in Hartcroft was the pain. And it's somewhat hard to remember what it was to live without it anyway."

"And yet-"

"And yet I have no intention whatsoever to give her the Grail," said Alexander, not caring that he had interrupted his Servant for the umpteenth time. "As I said, my only price was the pain. But I have gotten tired of paying it again and again. The White Queen will soon find out that my mock defection isn't as fake as she thinks."

Assassin only nodded silently, the mane of black flames adorning her head dancing around her frame like an unholy halo.

"Where do we go now, Master?" she finally asked and gestured to the wrecked room.

"Five of the Master-Servant pairs, us included, got hit rather hard last night," said instead Alexander. "Surely some tactical genius among the other four pairs has wrongly concluded that Berserker and Caster would be out for blood tonight and decided to spring a trap on them while the two healthy Servants themselves are looking for the injured ones. But since we know for a fact that Caster is still holed up in her Workshop and Berserker is kept on a tight leash underground for reasons unknown, we two will take advantage of the situation and-"

"Ambush the ones setting up the ambush," finished Assassin, her lips morphing into a predatory smile.

Frankly, the never-ending rattle of the rain was beginning to grate his nerves. After spending the majority of the day and the night chasing after the three Buriers who had escaped him the night before, Shinosuke was understandably less than happy when his hunt had led him in the less than picturesque back alleys of the city.

Hidden deep below the imposing figures of Hartcroft's giants of glass and steel, these dirt-covered shady streets seemingly exemplified the worst possible facets of the big city. But his trail had led him there and the young man had no intention whatsoever of letting go. Not after he had wandered around the city like a headless fly for so much time trying to corner his prey. At first cutting off their way to the cathedral had seemed like a good idea but after not even one of them had headed in its general direction, things had gotten rather… complicated.

But now Shinosuke was finally about to catch up with one of them and finish what he had started in Persephone's Grove. The thought that they had escaped from him at first was somewhat embarrassing, but the young man assured himself that there was nothing shameful in letting one of the famous Buriers of the Church slip away, even if they were only three and he had had that silly-looking blue-haired mage and his Servant to serve as a distraction.

A stray cat hissed somewhere near as it jumped inside a dumpster to hide from the pouring rain but Shinosuke paid it no heed. With only the occasional faint ray of light stemming from some high up window to partially light his way, the young man pushed forward relentlessly. Eventually, after turning round yet another dark corner and ending up in a dead-end alley, he came face to face with his prey. It was the blonde girl- or rather- the young woman with the four mechanical limbs which ended in sharp, curved claws.

Now that he could actually stop for a bit and take a look at his prey, Shinosuke concluded that she could even pass as somewhat pretty with a bit of primping. Her chin-length hair was rather unkempt and that tight fitting bodysuit she wore revealed a slim and muscular, yet rather flat figure. Still, her butt looked rather ample. Were all female Executors sporting ample butts because of all the training they got, absentmindedly asked himself the young man as he loosened his katana from its sheet with his thumb. Then again, categorizing women in such manner was rather rude. Plus, that woman was going to be nothing more than a corpse after a minute or so and since it was even ruder to speak ill of the dead, Shinosuke refrained himself from voicing his question. Instead, the young man bowed slightly and said:

"Shinosuke Hasegawa, a pleasure to meet you. Is there any particular way in which you wish to die? I'm somewhat tired after the chase so I just want to get this over with and go have a shower."

"You. Are. Insane!" shouted the woman and pointed at her hunter with one of her clawed artificial fingers. "You're worse than even those filthy mages, you bastard! Do you actually listen to yourself? Are you even fucking human, you fucking dolt?"

"Now that's rather rude of you to sa-"

In the time it took for him to blink, the Burier was already in front of him and rearing back her clawed hand. Unfortunately for her, the loosened katana was out of its sheathe in an instant and Shinosuke's one-handed upwards arc almost sliced her face in two. Ducking down and to the side, the woman immediately dodged the strike and extended her claw upwards, preparing to strike the man's chin from below… only for him to step backwards.

Shinosuke prepared to execute one last sideways slice and be done with it- she had overextended herself. But instead the Burier was now behind him, jamming her elbow into his spine hard enough to nearly shatter it and more than hard enough to send Shinosuke reeling forward. The young man used his katana as a break to stop himself.

For the first time since forever, his breath was somewhat ragged. He had done well to remove his blindfold when he had started his hunt. The currently damp fringe of black hair still hid his eyes from those around him but even looking through the bangs was helpful when it came down to dealing with someone so fast. That had been the woman's main strength the last time as well. Somehow, and for the life of his Shinosuke couldn't say how, she was faster than him.

Hell, in an open field she may have even stood some chance.

The young man's musing were cut short when, accompanied by the clank of chains, her right claw came flying towards him. It was easily dodged, but the electrical surge it let out when embedding itself into the wall behind him blew it up with enough force to send him flying into the opposite direction. Somehow regaining his footing and dodging the retracting claw on its way back to its owner, Shinosuke readied his katana and darted towards his prey. She dodged his strike, that much he had expected, but he had certainly hoped for his one-hundred degrees kick to do more than nick her chin as she jumped back. Having swapped their positions yet again, the hunter prepared to lunge at the hunted once more…

Only for the Burier's artificial hand to reveal a palm-mounted canon already lighting up with the gathered electricity. Barely managing to drive his katana into the ground on time, Shinosuke was hit by the full burn of the blast. In an instant, the whole night was lit up as blue arcs of roaring thunder crashed all around him. The feeling of his flesh being nearly burnt off overrode his mind with pain… and soon enough that thing inside him decided to intervene, scared for its well-being. Diamond-hard black scales, like those of a snake, grew over his body to protect the thing's container. And, eventually, when the whole storm subsided, the Burier could only look incredulously at him.

"You have an Egg like Gideon," stated the woman. It wasn't a question. She knew it and from what Shinosuke had seen in her way of dealing with her Burier… partner, she knew well enough how to use that newfound information to her advantage. The young man let out an irritated sigh. Sometimes, luck just wasn't on his side.

He moved to dodge them, albeit knowing it was futile. The enchanted chains springing forth out of the Burier's ahnd, seemingly out of thin air, locked onto him like hounds picking up the scent of a wounded animal. Immobilized and humiliated, Shinosuke was forced to endure the blonde's smirk.

"The Ninth Holy Scripture- Reins of Seven Heavens," said arrogantly the Burier. "Created with the sole purpose of suppressing and controlling those of your kind. Now do you see the might of the Church, you foul beast?"

Shinosuke could only grit his teeth in annoyance. The black scales had already been suppressed but he preferred it that way- he went all-out only against someone strong enough to pose a real threat to him. But this woman had just about lost the battle when she had fallen back on relying on her fancy weapon. Coerced by some undeniable power against his will, Shinosuke was forced to step forward and pick up his weapon. His own hands turned the katana against his heart. He knew what came next. He only prayed his will was strong enough to twist his hands a little because being killed by that annoying woman would be too much of a shame to bear.

As she jerked her hand, the blade he had taken so many lives with shot forward to take his own. But instead, barely biting back the shout of pain, its owner managed to twist the katana enough so it would merely pierce his chest right next to the heart. Aside from the pain nearly making him black out, Shinosuke's plan had worked- that much pain was definitely strong enough to force his body out of her hold.

The Burier wasted a precious few seconds, both shocked at him shaking off the strength of the Scripture and wondering whether he had wounded himself enough. Shinosuke's answer to that question was pulling out the blade sticking out of his chest with an expressionless mask plastered onto his face. Realizing her mistake, the Burier shot out both her claws at once. One of them he dodged, leaving it to embed itself into the wall next to him and the other he took out mid-air, his katana nailing it to the dirty ground. With both hands stuck, there was nothing much the woman could do when he darted towards her. Instinctively, she tried to retract her artificial hands- but she gave up just as quick when his hand grabbed the side of her hand. The blonde's eyes widened in realization. Shinosuke's blood may had been the one staining the both of them at that very moment but she knew well enough what was going to happen next. Already feeling that thing inside him stirring up and demanding blood to heal itself, Shinosuke bared his now pointy teeth. The woman apparently decided to at least die defiantly.

"Fucking bast-"

Just like the melons he had batted that one time when he had visited the beach alongside his adoptive family, the Burier's head exploded into red bits when he slammed it against the nearby wall.

Funny thing, concluded Shinosuke. He drank red juice after both smashings.

Liked ripped straight out of the set of some Hollywood B-rated horror flick, the insides of the cathedral could captivate a man's mind with how marvelously gloomy they were. Aside from the few torches lined up along the distant walls, the only source of lighting was the moon, in the rare instances the clouds parted enough for it to peak through the painted windows. Lined along the lone aisle in the center were the two equally shadowed wide rows of seemingly empty seats.

And straight ahead, just above the altar, were perching the tall statues of the seven archangels, with weapons raised towards the skies. Their valiant shouts, no doubt meant to rile up the humans against the forces of evil, were frozen on their lips, never to be actually spoken. Just below them, in front of the altar, was kneeling a lone girl, moonlight engulfing her body. Her voice remained nothing but an unintelligible whisper, even when one took into account the impressive acoustics of the building.

Albus shook his head at how clichéd was the scene before him, the lustrous fiery mane of his current body mirroring the movement. The echo of his steps went seemingly unheard by the girl below the altar. Only the still faces of the seven angels looming above seemed to observe him with interest. The sculptor had done his job a tad too well, concluded Albus.

Having finally reached the front row, the patriarch of the Grimaldi gleefully took a seat and bore his eyes, colored the eerie inhuman hue of green signature of his family, into the praying girl. Moved by the will of lifelong habits, the lithe hands the Grimaldi now counted as his own moved to straighten the hem of the pristine white dress he had chosen for his current body. Usually, Albus paid no heed to such little things which lingered on for some time after taking over a new host, but this time around they served only as remainders how humiliating it had been to take Alyss's as his next body.

Nonchalant as he had tried to make it seem, losing both his prime candidates had been a harsh hit. His son-in-law, as tough as he certainly was, considering that the former Executor had dragged himself out of the Halls and actually learned the art of the Grimaldi, just wasn't blood enough to be a stable host. The only body capable of being properly lived in could only be a Grimaldi one- otherwise Albus would have been forced to change his host every month or so. Alyss had been the best choice left, as the youngest Grimaldi at his disposal. Sadly, being compatible meant also being strong enough to try and reject him on instinct. And so, Albus Grimaldi was stuck in the body of the girl, unable to even mold it into his own image in fear of quickening the rejection. Still, it would certainly last long enough, even if he used his magecraft extensively. He considered the Grail already in his pocket- but, as it had been already noted, the hit had been harsh.

To his pride, that is.

Which he fully intended to pay back upon meeting his grandson.

Taking brother-sisterly love to the next level was a tradition in their family, one meant to keep their blood as pure as possible. But even before the twins could be nudged into such a direction, the boy had showed signs of protectiveness and possessiveness towards Alyss, which had highly amused the patriarch of the family. Half the reason Albus had declared that the girl was going to be sent down into the Feasting Halls had been to see Glen's reaction. His grandson hadn't disappointed him the least. Albus had been almost willing to let the transgression slide and let him out after the second week but since Glen had began to show such interesting methods of dealing with his predicament, the eldest Grimaldi had decided to see how things would develop. Patriarch or not, Albus had known he would be pushing it if he had kept the kid inside for more than a month but it had sill been painful when he had been forced to cut his little experiment short.

After all, Glen was such an interesting object to observe! There were few people like him nowadays- even among the Grimaldis themselves, whom Albus considered to have grown stagnant after his successes had basically removed any obstacle in their way. But Glen showed some weird kind of determination eerily reminiscent of Albus's own when he had been his age- and so he had let him run off to the Scintillares and live a little. The older brother was considered the prodigy, be it on a technicality or not, but the youngest Grimaldi had already shown that he could do wonders with his magecraft when his sheer stubbornness was added into the mix.

And so, Albus had spent the last decade more or less preparing for the Sixth Grail War. Two hundred years ago, when he had been still in that stage of youth he still found dick joke funny, his warped sense of humor had cost him a marriage which would have given him a place as a Master. And then the Einzberns had botched the whole thing during the Third War, making both the Fourth and Fifth much too dangerous for his plan. It was after the rather explosive end of the Fourth War that he had decided to take matters into his own hands.

But since patience was perhaps the only virtue Albus Grimaldi possessed, and in abundance no less, he had waited for someone else to clear up the mess first. Taking unnecessary risks with a tainted Grail had never been in his plans. By then he had already lived for five hundred long years, scheming and waiting for his plan to be fully set in motion. Not that the waiting was that hard to endure. Quite the contrary- the world was always in motion, with each and every decade more and more new things were discovered and humanity in general was just so damn interesting to observe! Unlike some beings who were as old or older than him, Albus had never embraced the idea of living in the past and scoffing at every new tendency which popped up. No, the Grimaldi carefully tasted the feel of each and every age and century he lived through, living his life as if each and every minute could have been his last.

After all, why would one want to live forever if he didn't have fun? If anything, there was one guilty pleasure Albus had fully embraced over the years. And that was to always act on it when he inwardly asked himself 'what would happen if?'.

The only thing which mattered to him aside from that was his plan, the plan which would eventually turn into reality that promise left unsaid half a millennia ago. And now that less than a month was left to that faithful moment, Albus was fully intent on having a blast with this War.

Glen was certainly the pawn which held in store the most surprises. As he had expected, his grandson had been chosen as worthy by the Grail. The interesting part was how far he could get into the War before he was taken out or his Crest eventually consumed him, even if it was only due to Albus being so near. The Grimaldi wondered how to make it even more appealing to observe…

Perhaps the boy had someone dear to him who could be kidnapped or killed? Forcing Glen into a situation where his choice was between using the Crest and letting a loved one die would be a most amusing thing to watch, concluded Albus. Especially if the boy had gotten as close to someone else as he had been to Alyss once. Of course, there was still the inherent fun in merely meeting his grandson while in this body. Should he reveal himself and watch him fly into a fit of rage? Or had the boy grown weaker, which would mean that he would just fall to his knees and stare in shock? Then again, perhaps pretending he was the real Alyss, forced to come alongside her grandfather for the War would be the better choice? This would surely heighten the shock value when Glen eventually learned the truth. He had to be really careful at playing the part in that case, considering how attuned the boy had been to his opposite sex mirror image. One wrong step and Glen would immediately realize what was going on.

So absorbed was Albus in his daydreaming, that he had forgotten why he had sat down near the girl in the first place. Returning his wandering gaze back to her figure, the magus strained his ears to make out the words rapidly leaving her lips. Soon enough, it became rather apparent that what she was saying certainly wasn't a prayer.

"The deepest crimson, like a blossoming rose," muttered the girl, seemingly to no one. "That's the color of the Moon after his accession. The Twenty-eight, He Who Morphs the Seams of the Living and the Dead, Heaven's Reaper- his titles are his very being, a lone king sitting atop his throne of flesh and bones. The seas are red with blood, the snow is ashes… all is one and one is all in his embrace…"

The string of ominous predictions kept on pouring out of the girl's mouth but Albus refused to listen to her ramblings anymore. Predicting the future was a fickle thing- time wasn't a river which flowed only in one single direction so that people could read the flow correctly. It was more akin to a tree which branched out at every single instance, when even the smallest of actions led to the greatest of changes. The things she was seeing had no guarantee whatsoever of happening.

Still, hers was a rather rare gift to have indeed, Albus admitted and glanced at the wide-open eyes of the girl. The brightest purple, like amethysts, they could see through the vague twists and turns of the future… but could be just as much as a curse as they were a blessing. Bored of waiting, the magus wondered what to do with the girl to pass his time. Darker than even her nun's robes, straight raven-black hair fell down the girl's back. Her face was rather pretty and she did seem to have a shapely body under the robes. Almost a shame she would waste away nature's gifts serving the Church. Although as far as anyone knew, the Buriers' regiments were rather… lax in most regards.

"So she's the one who saw the Aylesburrys attempt to call forth the irregular Servant, huh?" suddenly asked Albus and looked over his shoulder at the aged priest who had sneaked nearby under the veil of the darkness.

Luciano frowned at his unwanted ally, his stern eyes drilling proverbial holes into Albus's. The hand clutching his ornate cane's handle was visibly shaking in anger, no matter how much the priest was trying to hide it.

"How did you get in here?" sternly asked the grey-haired man, somehow managing not to shout.

"Through the front door," answered Albus with the voice of his granddaughter, making the most innocent expression he could manage. Fluttering his eyelashes had apparently been the breaking point, because the magus was ready to swear he had seen steam escape from the priest's nostrils.

"I'll give you one last chance before I exorcise you right here and now," said Luciano. "How did you get in here?"

Letting out an irritated sigh, Albus decided to just answer the question and postpone the opportunity to paint his white dress red with blood for some other time. After all, he needed a living Luciano to talk business with him.

"That boy you've ordered to guard the perimeter constantly walks in and out of the bounded fields. The sword he carries emanates enough prana for me not to be noticed if I just hide my presence a little and walk through the barrier at the same time as he does."

"How-"

"Hard for him to notice a pool of blood right around his feet in this dreadful weather, y'know," cut him off Albus and shrugged. "If anything, I suggest you send out your little knight to hunt some Masters instead of keeping a very impatient young man around for guard duty. What, you're afraid someone will try stealing the Grail? Hah, that's rich. I guess you don't trust your abilities enough anymore, old man."

"You're the last one I want to hear this from, demonic scum," spat out the priest. "What do you want with me?"

Hopping back onto his legs, hands behind his back, Albus leaned forward and smiled at his ally mischievously.

"Just a friendly chat, old man, that's all. This place is so gloomy and boring anyway," said the magus with Alyss's voice.

"About what in particular? I wouldn't like wasting your precious time here so do ask and then you can be free to go away. Immediately."

"Man, you're such a depressing geezer," shot back the redhead, but upon noticing the priest's glare, cut straight to business. "What happened to that opportunistic Indy-wannabe you hired? I figured a magus willing to work for the Church wouldn't be the most trustworthy of partners, but he just fell off the face of the Earth after he got you those Grail fragments from Japan. I thought you said he wanted to participate in the War as well."

"He did," answered Luciano as evenly as he could and stroked his thin goatee. "But I had already distributed the class cards back in Europe when I let out the rumor that the War is going to take place here, so I told him the last known location of the one he wanted."

"Which was?" drawled out Albus.

"The Berserker card," grimly replied the aged priest. "As far as I know he traced it to that mage informant who played babysitter for your grandson these past ten years. After that, he just vanished."

"Perhaps he's just hiding," suggested the redhead and shrugged his shoulders. "Berserker would be the one Servant who is the easiest to track back to his Master's hideout so he's probably waiting until the others kill each other off a bit. His Servant should technically be stronger or on par with Saber- a smart man wouldn't risk scaring the other Masters so much that they team up against him."

"That is a legitimate possibility," agreed Luciano. "What is interesting, however, is that my associate apparently planned for more than just having a fair shot at the Grail. You see, it seems he didn't give me all the shards of the Grail he managed to gather. One of them he kept for himself- and implanted it inside his daughter."

The redhead whistled and the sound ended up magnified a dozen times by the acoustics of the cathedral. The kneeling girl behind the scheming duo just kept on droning on and on, still lost inside her future-seeing trance.

"So Berserker's Master has got himself a Lesser Grail? I presume that you are doing something to fix this, considering two active Lesser Grails splitting the Servants' souls between themselves would lead to nothing. We need only one start-up key, preferably the one in our own hands," pointed out Albus and wagged his finger playfully at his accomplice. "Geez, old man, you should know that already!"

The redhead thought it was a small miracle that the priest didn't start whacking him with his cane right then and there. Instead, Luciano just grumbled and mumbled before he answered.

"It turns out Mr. Reinsviel's interest in the Grail is more than a passing one. I did a more thorough background check, this time going back a few generations, and it turns out he is descended from an exile of the Einzbern family who fled to Hartcroft at around the end of the Third War. That daughter of his, she's an Einzbern-style homunculus, modified inside the womb of her mother. With the shard inside her, the girl may even be chosen over our Lesser Grail by the Greater One. Part of the Saint of Winter lives on in shards we used for the construction, after all."

"I must say I'm somewhat impressed," said Albus and then flashed a wide smile at his accomplice. "But it's mainly you whom he outwitted, considering that you were in charge of setting up the Greater and Lesser Grails."

Somehow yet again holding back his seething fury, Luciano asked:

"What I want to know is how on Earth we can gather enough prana to make a stable connection to Akasha, even if we possess the Lesser Grail. The reason I had to create the class cards is precisely because our Grail was much too weak to summon them without a solid template. Even if this place is a layline convergence point we can't hope to-"

"Simple," said Albus upon cutting off the priest. "We're not summoning it here."

Several seconds passed in silence.

"What?"

"I said that we won't establish the connection here. When the day comes we'll move the Greater Grail to a place specifically created for that purpose four hundred years ago."

Once again, the aged priest could only blink in surprise.

"What?"

"You have a map around here somewhere?" asked Albus and looked around as if he expected one to pop up out of thin air.

With an irritated sigh, Luciano motioned to his accomplice to follow him to his office in the back of the cathedral. After some rummaging through the cabinets, the priest eventually unfolded a city map atop the desk.

"So," began Albus and picked up the nearest pen. "You know that we need a Servant to interact with the Grail, hence why you will make a Contract with some Masterless one using the leftover Command Spells you have from the last War," clarified the redhead and noted towards Luciano's robed right hand. "The other thing you know is that this place is one of the main layline convergence points in the city. The rest are here, here and here," continued with his explanation the Grimaldi while encircling the Skylance, the Skyspire and the Skyarrows. Add in the bounded fields and seals placed around all over the island's borders so that the prana would be bounced back into it instead of escaping out and the Vimur channel, which is the main layline 'artery' of Hartcroft, and you get… this," concluded Albus and presented the map back to Luciano. "The island-wide seal meant to spread all the prana around the city equally, with four main convergence points in the cardinal directions and a main artery through the middle so no one can have a monopoly. At least that's what the Second Owner of the land thinks. In reality, I managed to persuade the Escalus that since they were the ones who rerouted all the laylines towards the island, they deserved the best hotspot of them all… without the other founders knowing, of course. And so along the Caspar, Melchior and Balthazar bridges were forged a couple of more laylines, which, along with the ones who follow the roughly crescent shape of the two main districts, hook up with all others and converge at one single, all-controlling point riiight here!"

Jamming his finger at the middle of the Vimur channel, Albus covered almost the whole patch of artificial land that was representing Persephone's Grove Park.

"The position of the laylines… the whole city," muttered the priest, the hand clutching his cane once again shaking.

"Is one large-scale copy of the seal which I will use to open the hole to the Root. We don't need the seventh Servant to be sacrificed. At the moment of activation, every single person, every single oddity which has gathered here over the last four hundred years, will be used as fuel for the Grail. You better wish fast, Head Cardinal," said Albus and smiled as innocently as he could at his accomplice. "Your connection to the Grail through your Servant and Command Spells won't keep you alive forever."

"I'd prefer if you refrained from addressing me with my proper title here," gruffly said Luciano Alterigia. "You don't know who could be listening."

"What, you don't trust your own Buriers?" asked Albus and raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Or maybe you haven't told them yet that they, too, will end up as fuel for the Grail? How many of them even know you are even here anyway?"

"Two," replied the priest. "Michael guards the Greater Grail while we keep it here and Lily acts as mission control for the others while they are off hunting Masters and Servants and thinking this is just a routine assignment meant to test if they are truly worthy to be full-fledged Buriers."

"Sucks to be them, I guess," replied Albus with a shrug. "I'll be out of town the moment I finish transferring the Greater Grail to its proper place."

"Won't you take that spawn of yours back with you? You're family after all," asked the priest.

"Nah, I want to see how far Glen can go," replied Albus and shook his head. "If anything, I'd advise you to target him first. What with those ominous predictions your little Lily was chanting just now."

"Heaven's Reaper, the one who morphs the seams of the living and the dead," echoed Luciano and eyed his accomplice suspiciously. "This is you most likely, considering the kid can't even use his Crest without it killing him from the inside out."

"Who knows?" countered the redhead and shrugged nonchalantly. "I wouldn't put much faith in her predictions anyway. The Eyes of Absolute Precognition surely can see a potential future, but you never know what kinds of choices have to be taken to reach or prevent the outcome she sees."

"The main targets for now are Reinsviel and Berserker along with his pet Grail and Saber's Master, by virtue of possessing the supposedly strongest Servant," stated the priest. "And now would you finally leave? Just looking at you makes me sick."

After a casual wave for goodbye, the redheaded mage walked out of the room, whistling.