Hey there!
The mile-high mark of 1,000 follows has been reached! 1,000 favorites… might take a bit longer, but we'll get there someday. Thank you to everyone who's taken an interest in this story, and especially everyone that's given it their thumbs-up! I am absolutely thrilled each day by how much y'all are enjoying it.
No objections on the new pacing, which really surprised me, so I'll stay the course on that. Or try, at least. I'm also removing the challenge parameters in chapter 1, since there have been no takers beyond a couple of reviews in three years. Not really a point in keeping them there anymore, I think.
Shout-out to ekaterina016, who not only provided insight as a fellow writer, but has also permitted me to utilize a bit of material from some of his own works in this story. If you're into developed characters and fully original plots, give his stories and character sheets a look. He put some good work into those.
To ArguableReader: Firstly, I never did find that story you recommended in your Ch. 14 review. Sorry. Secondly, you make a valid point about the harem thing. Finding a careful balance like that is actually much harder to write than people realize. As for Xenovia, it's the same scenario I've made with other DxD characters so far: They're still recognizable as Ishibumi's characters, but if I want to mix things up and make a unique contrast against their canon personalities, that's just my author's discretion. I don't want to argue about it with anyone, so please just enjoy this for what it is: a work of fan fiction.
Now, back to the story! Who is behind curtain #2? Let's find out!
Disclaimer: I do not own High School DxD, nor do I own Type Moon, any of its intellectual properties, or any other property used in this work.
Published: October 7, 2023
Updated: TBD
…
Chapter 18 – A New Ally
The skies were clear on that Tuesday night, giving an uninterrupted view of the stars and the moon as it cast its gentle reflection of the sun's rays onto the sleepy town. In the forest clearing to the north, two figures worked quietly among themselves.
Connor stood on the edge of a large diagram several meters across while Caster went back and forth within the diagram, examining it thoroughly. It was the exact same diagram Connor had used to summon Caster almost a month ago with some additions, courtesy of the Heroic Spirit. With Caster's help, the time spent drawing the ritual circle was cut down by several hours, which allowed Caster more time to double check it for faults.
Security was no issue for the spirit, either; using nearby trees as waypoints, he had created a cage of Bounded Fields that sealed off the entire clearing. Not even a bug could get in without Caster knowing about it.
As Connor watched Caster work, the index finger of his right hand tapped like a metronome against his left wrist.
"I can hear you doing that from over here, kid." Caster looked back to him in annoyance. "Cut it out."
Connor shook his head. "Sorry, just… got the jitters. I got myself so hyped up earlier and now the anticipation's killing me."
"It'll be fine. I wouldn't have suggested this if I didn't think it was possible, incoming catastrophe notwithstanding."
Over the previous day since deciding to summon another Servant, Connor's concern had focused on one important detail: energy supply. While his body had gotten used to working its magic circuits constantly, the rate of production remained largely the same. He wasn't exactly a magical energy reactor on the verge of melting down, so he worried the increased upkeep cost would leave him effectively drained and the Servants starved for energy at all times.
Caster confirmed that worry, but then further elaborated on why the Assassin was the best option if the ritual was to work again. From the standpoint of power, they were generally the second weakest behind Casters, but their magical energy intake was also the lowest out of the seven classes by a significant margin. Between the abundance of Mana available from the environment, his own methods of conserving energy and the Assassin's low rates of consumption, Caster seemed convinced that Connor would be able to handle the extra load.
Having the Sephiroth Graal on hand would have undoubtedly helped with eliminating some unknown factors in the process. Unfortunately, since the Grigori would likely never let Connor near it again, he had no choice but to work around its absence.
According to Caster, though, Connor had already done just that. His grandfather's ritual had made a way to substitute the initial energy required and the channel by which to summon something (or someone). Establishing the connection to the Throne was just the final piece to complete the formula, which the Graal had provided via the command seal.
"Glad you're so confident in our chances," Connor remarked.
"One of us has to be," Caster countered lightly, then stood up and clapped his hands together to dust off the chalk. "Okay, circle looks good! Now, for the catalysts." He walked back to the pile of supplies the two had brought with them and picked up a small satchel.
"Oh yeah, hey, what'd you end up getting that you couldn't tell me about?" Connor curiously asked the spirit as he passed him again, walking beside his contracted Servant on the return trip.
"It's not that I couldn't tell you, I just wanted to see the look on your face when you saw it all for yourself." From the satchel, Caster began pulling a number of items and setting them neatly in the circle's center. They ranged from tools like caltrops, lock picks, a bundle of rope and a spool of steel wire to small weapons like two double-edged daggers and some throwing stars.
As the answer clicked, Connor let out a baffled laugh. He had actually thought about a similar scenario earlier in the day, but dismissed it as an errant fantasy.
"A ninja? Really?"
"Don't knock it till you try it," the spirit grinned. "Chiyome Mochizuki, Hanzō Hattori, KotarōFūma, there's plenty of ninja throughout Japanese history that have made their mark on the world. And if I'm right, summoning a Heroic Spirit in their land of origin might have a few extra benefits for you."
Connor looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that the reputation they possess in their homeland may have an effect on the abilities they possess as a Heroic Spirit, if they were to be summoned in said homeland." Having emptied the satchel, Caster walked back toward the edge of the circle and tossed it aside.
"Huh…" the magus pondered for a moment. "Wait, could it have worked with you?"
"Maybe, but I think we're long past dwelling on that," Caster evenly dismissed before summoning his staff into his hand. "Alright, everything's set. Just need some blood, and from there on, it's all you."
"Right…"
Connor bent down to pick up the dagger from among the pile of catalysts. He briefly examined the implement before dragging its sharpened tip in a small trail on his left forearm, cutting the skin right beside the scar from where he drew blood for Caster's summoning. The blood dripped easily onto the diagram's epicenter, and he wiped the blade clean against his shirt sleeve before setting it down again.
Walking back to Caster's side, he absently ran through the healing sequence to close the new wound on his arm. With that done, he then lifted his right hand and counted down the seconds to begin.
'3… 2… 1…'
"Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation. Let black be the color I pay tribute to. Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall. Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate."
He released the gates, and the redirected Mana from the leyline surged into his body once again. Just like before, the fiery sensation was utterly consuming. In this moment, it was still intense, but not as jolting. He could take a breath without feeling like the air was being pulled from his lungs.
"Fill, Fill, Fill, Fill, Fill. Repeat every five times. Simply, shatter once filled."
The wind picked up, just as ferociously as it had with Caster's summoning, but he was ready for it this time. Keeping his eyes guarded with his left arm, he continued.
"I hereby declare: Your body shall serve under me, my fate shall be your sword. If you abide by this will, this reason, then respond!"
The orb of light began to take shape, once more forming into a two-armed and two-legged being.
Caster watched the process stoically, his staff in his right hand. The spirit's gaze never wavered from the circle's epicenter, even while his robes and long hair flowed chaotically in the increasingly heavy wind.
Upon the last verses, Connor dropped his weight into his legs and dug his heels into the dirt.
"My oath to be sworn here: I shall attain all virtues of Heaven. I shall have dominion over all evils of Hell! You seven heavens, clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance!"
The blast of air and light consumed the clearing, blowing away everything that wasn't bracing for it or held down by roots. Loose dirt kicked up into a plume of fine dust that prompted Connor to fully close his eyes and mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Caster remain firmly in place.
Connor sent a pulse of Od through the circuits in his arm toward the seal. Whenever Caster took physical form, there was always a slight pull from the seal as it supplied the spirit with magical energy.
Now, he felt the energy being pulled in TWO directions! The summoning was a complete success!
When the dust settled, he opened his eyes and stared in awe at the new being brought to life.
This time, the figure was a woman, fair-skinned and bearing long black hair that was tied into a high ponytail by a maroon band. From her kneeling position, it was hard to approximate her age range but, based on her build, she was definitely an adult. Her outfit was fully reminiscent of a feudal-era kunoichi: a skin-tight black and maroon bodysuit with armor that adorned her torso and abdomen, and a long red scarf draped around her neck that fell down to the ground.
Yet, the most intriguing detail of the newly summoned spirit was her limbs. At first glance, she seemed to be wearing long gloves and stockings, but a deeper look showed differently. From her mid thighs to the feet and her upper arms to the hands were a complex series of black mechanical parts, crafted and fitted to near perfectly resemble the shape of human limbs. Her shoulders and hips connected these apparently false parts to her body by way of ball-and-socket joints, which also appeared composed of the same material.
The woman raised her head to look up at Connor, her hair framing the eyes as they opened to reveal pale golden orbs with small, diamond-shaped pupils of a slightly brighter shade of gold. The look they shared with one another was of mutual curiosity, even while the rest of her facial expression remained completely blank. (1)
"Katō Danzō, activated. Requesting input, Master. As Danzō is a shinobi, I will obey any command." Her voice was soft, and her simple, robotic speech pattern further added to the motif of an inhuman nature.
Exciting as it was for the ritual to have succeeded a second time, the name of the new arrival gave him slight pause.
"Danzō? As in…"
"The renowned shinobi and illusionist that was active during the later part of Japan's Sengoku period. Otherwise known as 'Flying Katō' or 'Black Kite,'" Caster elaborated, bringing his left hand to his chin. "Well, we wanted a ninja, and that's what we got. And a damn good one, at that."
"Yeah, but…" Connor trailed off as his mind began to wander.
'All the stories I've read about Danzō said he was a man… Oh, wait a minute… is this one of those homeland effects Caster was talking about? Did summoning Danzō inside Japan change him into this?'
"Hey," Caster poked the side of Connor's head, snapping him back to reality. "I know that look by now. Don't think too hard about it, you'll break something in your brain."
"I-I'm just trying to make sense of things," Connor replied. "What I know is running contrary to what we're seeing here."
"Okay, sure, but you can ponder about the little details after sealing the new contract, so get to it." He gave Connor a nudge, putting an end to the discussion.
"Alright, alright," Connor acquiesced, then turned his attention back to the new arrival and cleared his throat. She hadn't moved a centimeter from her position in the circle, still watching him intently. "You are the Assassin-class Servant, correct?"
"Correct," the woman nodded. Good grief, her poker face could make Koneko Tōjō seem emotional.
"Are you aware of what time period you're in?" he asked.
"Yes. It is the 21st century, approximately five hundred years since the time of my operation. Much has changed… Japan is no longer isolated from the rest of the world, and the clan I once served is no more. But, I am not without purpose." She bowed her head to Connor in deference. "In accordance with the contract by which I have responded, I am to serve you in any and all capacities possible. My skills and knowledge are yours to command, Master."
Connor stepped toward the kneeling Servant and held his hand out for her to take.
"Then, as your Master, I'll be glad to have you, Danzō. You may rise."
The mechanical shinobi lifted her head again and delicately grasped her summoner's hand with her own. Just like it had with Caster, the command seal gave a slight tingle as the pact was sealed.
Connor was more surprised, however, by something else. The material of her hand was cool and smoother than plastic, but not to the point of glassy. He could make out tiny contours across the surface that made each part appear woven together in a seamless mesh. Was a marvel of engineering like this even possible back in the 1500s?
On a curious whim, he quickly applied Structural Grasp and came to an astonishing discovery: It wasn't just her limbs, her entire body was mechanical! Unlike Caster when he exited spirit form, there wasn't a part of her physically manifested body that could be considered organic! And yet, it looked so real, right down to her… proportions!
Her hand still in his grasp, Danzō then rose to her feet with fluidity and grace, not making a sound as she did so. Standing at full height, the top of her head reached to Connor's nose, while her eyes continued to study him.
It felt really awkward but, at the same time, flattering to be observed so closely and with such intrigue.
"Alright, kid, looks like everything worked perfectly."
"Yep, now for introductions." Connor stepped back and gestured to the older man. "Danzō, this is Caster, my first contracted Servant. You'll be working with him a lot in the near future. He still hasn't told me who he really is yet, but he's going by Grímnir for now."
She bowed lightly to the taller man. "I will be in your care, Lord Caster."
"Sure, but cut the 'Lord' crap," Caster waved off her greeting in slight distaste. "You can call the kid that all you want, but not me. The only hierarchy here is Master and Servant."
"Acknowledged. 'Lord Caster' is to be considered an impermissible form of address."
Caster opened his mouth, but then shrugged. "Yeah, good enough. Okay, kid, I'll take care of the cleanup. Now that we know it's possible to summon more than one Servant, we can come back and use this same site again, if you feel you're up to it."
"We'll tuck that away for when there's no potential crisis on our hands, okay? Okay." Caster waved, and while he got to work covering the site with debris and taking down the Fields, Connor turned his attention back to the automaton. "Anyway, I've got your first orders already, Danzō."
"Master, if I may speak freely?" the shinobi requested.
"Go ahead," he urged.
"My identity is too well known in this land. I believe it would be best if you were to address me by my class instead of my True Name."
Connor nodded. "Yeah, Caster told me about that business. Alright, if it's all the same, we'll go with Assassin."
A Servant's True Name did more than just tell who they were, based on Caster's lesson on the subject. It told everything about a Servant there was to know; their history, their strengths, their abilities, and most importantly, their weaknesses. As such, it was potentially compromising for an enemy to get a hold of that information and use it to their advantage.
Then again, it wasn't like anyone would believe straight away that she actually was Katō Danzō, even if it were to just slip out somehow. The legends about Danzō being what they were, her existence as a Servant clashed with the stories about him as a figure of Japanese history. For one thing, he was allegedly executed via decapitation. The secret of her true nature would have been revealed to all of history at that point, unless she used a real human as a substitute to fake her death.
"As you wish," Assassin responded. "What would you have me do, Master?"
Connor briefly explained the situation, detailing his meeting of the exorcists on Sunday and what he had learned from Caster's eavesdropping. He could ponder on historical contradictions later. By the time he had finished, Caster had completely disguised the ritual site and rejoined the pair.
"So, in essence, we need a spy," the Master summarized.
"I will begin immediately. If you wish it, I can also deploy a surveillance drone to monitor activity within and around this city at the same time."
"Go ahead, but be careful," he warned, curious about her offer. "There are other forces on the lookout as well, not just the Devils. Meet with Caster back here in two hours, then he'll show you to the apartment complex where I'm currently staying."
"Understood."
Her left shoulder opened up by way of a large panel. From within the cavity, something fired into the air and spread open like a bat unfurling its wings for takeoff. Connor only caught a brief glimpse of what looked like a kite, before it ascended into the night sky and blended with the darkness. He looked at Assassin again just as the compartment closed up and she vanished in the blink of an eye.
While he continued to stare in the empty spot in surprise, Caster clapped a hand on the young magus' shoulder.
"Close your mouth, kid, or flies'll start coming in. How d'ya feel?"
Connor closed his eyes and cast a Structural Grasp on himself, gauging his Od levels and the rates of distribution. True to Caster's word, Assassin's energy draw really was small; almost half of what Caster required on a normal day of keeping him manifested for training.
"I'm alright for now. The tank isn't full, though, so let's not tempt fate."
"Gotcha. Once Assassin gets back, I'll engrave some runes to let her draw energy from the apartment like I can. Let's get going; you've got a big day tomorrow." Caster released his shoulder, then vanished in flickers of blue light that scattered in the wind.
Connor stood still for a moment in idle thought before turning for home, his silent guardian beside him.
A mere three hours after the summoning, Connor stirred from blissful slumber. The sun had not even begun to peek over the horizon into his window, though its first rays were slowly changing the color of the sky back to peaceful blue.
Falling asleep proved to be something of a challenge. The magus was too interested in learning more about his newly contracted Servant to really relax, and he still had enough energy to toss about for a while. Eventually, his body succumbed to the bed's embrace, his mind following suit.
But, now that he was up, he could properly satiate his curiosity. That, and the tantalizing smell of bacon was beginning to waft in from beyond the door.
Checking the command seal, he felt both Servants currently in the apartment; one in the living room, the other in the kitchen. The latter was probably Caster making a quick breakfast. Stepping out of his room, he caught sight of the mechanical Servant kneeling in seiza on the floor.
"Assassin?"
The mechanical shinobi blinked as if waking up, then looked to Connor and lightly bowed her upper body. "Good morning, Master."
"Good morning… Why are you on the floor?"
"I told her she could have a chair, but she insisted on reporting to you 'properly,'" Caster spoke up, peeking his head out from the tiny kitchen's doorway. "Also, morning!"
"Indeed," Assassin confirmed. "I wished to deliver my report, but Caster advised that I not disturb your sleep outside of an emergency, so I waited."
"Oh. So, did you… just wait like that instead of going into spirit form?"
She shook her head, her long ponytail swaying side to side."I was in standby mode. If I do not receive any sort of input for too long, I will enter standby mode to conserve energy."
"It's more or less the same as spirit form for her. She'll snap out of it if you just speak to her. Take a seat, kid. Breakfast'll be ready in about two minutes."
Shrugging, Connor pulled up a chair to the dining room table and motioned for Assassin to do the same. Without objection, she rose from her spot on the floor and took the other chair before recounting the night's events.
"To start with, I first tracked what I believed to be creatures of demonic origin and humans wielding holy armaments. Caster later informed me that they were Devils and exorcists working together in search of a common enemy. I followed them for nearly an hour before I decided to move on and scout the area on my own outside of the town's boundaries.
"In doing so, I discovered the remnants of a small camp about five kilometers to the west. From what I could observe, the occupants had left in a hurry, but not enough to leave the site in a haphazard state. What little I could find find had evidence of magic of some sort being used.
"When I reported my findings to Caster, he went to investigate the location as well and determined the magic to be holy-based. To boot, residue that he found on closer inspection indicated a complex ritual in its beginning stages taking place there. He and I both agree that someone was using the camp as a staging ground, far enough away to remain undetected by the local Devils."
"I see." The magus frowned, already forming an idea of who was responsible. It was a step up from trying to do their business inside enemy territory. But still, why even come to Kuoh in the first place? What were they after, if not all of the Excalibur fragments?
"Here ya go, kid. Get your grub on."
Caster setting breakfast down on the table hooked his attention; an all-in-one combination of bread, egg, bacon, cheese and random garnish. A quick and easy meal, taught to the spirit courtesy of a fisherman he had met on his Sunday trips.
Connor nodded his thanks to Caster. Before taking his first bite, he decided to finally address the question pervading his mind all night.
"Thank you for your diligence, Assassin. Now, I hope you'll pardon my bluntness, but what exactly are you? And I don't mean a Heroic Spirit, I mean… this." He gestured to her body with an slight motion of his left hand.
"I am a karakuri doll, Master," she answered sedately. "I was designed and constructed by the sorcerer Kashin Koji in collaboration with the First Head of the Fūma shinobi clan shortly after its founding."
Koji Kashin. Now there was a name shrouded in even more mystery than Danzō. Following his exile from a Buddhist temple, known facts about the heretical monk became almost nonexistent, but there were plenty of wild and outlandish stories to fill in the blanks. Some sources claimed he was a traveling stage magician that made a living by bamboozling daimyos and the occasional shogun, while others stated that he did work as a shinobi, specializing in puppetry and illusions, much like Danzō.
Looking again at the sentient doll, Connor began to wonder how much more there was to the man than history realized. To build something like this, Kashin must have been an absolute prodigy of magecraft; alchemy, gradation air, transference of consciousness, and those were just some of the arts that more immediately came to mind.
Assassin continued, "My primary purpose was to serve as a shinobi of the Fūma. As the clan's influence and territory expanded over time, I was additionally tasked with helping to raise and train its future generations. Secondary functions were to catalogue and store information within my data banks. Things such as close combat forms, alchemy, and techniques of espionage, assassination and torture exclusive to the clan were chief among this knowledge."
"Pretty dangerous stuff to keep on hand," Connor observed. "Would I be right to assume that some of that is under lock and key?"
Assassin took a moment before answering, looking down slightly and creasing her brow. She was hesitating, almost as if she didn't want to say anything about it. Quite odd behavior for a literal killing machine.
"Yes. The most secret of these arts were sealed by the First Head of the Fūma prior to my activation. They were only to be utilized under his spoken order. Now that I have manifested as a Heroic Spirit, these arts have similarly transformed into a series of techniques that fall under a singular Noble Phantasm: the Yōjutsu Zanhō: Black Arts Decapitation Methods."
Connor straightened up a bit in his chair. "How many are there?"
"Seven."
The magus was lucky to not have anything in his mouth at that moment; he would have started choking on it.
Among the plethora of Caster's lessons about Heroic Spirits, the concept of Noble Phantasms had been a point of great interest to Connor. The druid described them as the most notable legends surrounding a Spirit that would manifest along with them, becoming what amounted to a Servant's greatest strength. Depending upon the legends themselves, these Phantasms could take on a number of forms or functions, be they tools or weapons or even a part of the Servant's own body. Whatever the case, they were essential to that Servant's ability to fight and turn a battle in their favor.
Unfortunately, the active use of a Noble Phantasm required an enormous amount of magical energy to power, far more than what Connor would normally be able to provide. The only way around that would be to cast a command spell and have the Servant release that Phantasm in a crucial moment. Timing would be everything.
"These techniques are still sealed, however, so I cannot use them freely. My apologies, Master."
That tracked; if they were sealed in life as explicitly as she claimed, then it stood to reason that they would remain that way in her current form. He could probably still force their use with a command spell to bypass the restriction, but her reaction to his question about them was concerning.
"Er, that's alright. Do you have one that's more… readily accessible? One tied to your own legends and not the clan?"
"I do," Assassin replied with a nod. "My personal Noble Phantasm is not very… subtle, shall I say, and a much larger area is required to properly use it. Other shinobi techniques that I can use do not possess the same restrictions as the Black Arts. Those are more fundamental ninjutsu, as well as tools and illusionary arts of Kashin-sama's own design."
Connor was having a hard time containing himself at this point. "Can you elaborate on that?"
"My limbs are equipped with multiple offense-based Mystic Codes that allow for swift elimination of targets, both from long ranges and in close quarters." She lifted her arms from the table and curled her fingers. A pair of large, curved blades suddenly flicked out from her forearms in response, both of which were attached to her wrists, then withdrew as she relaxed her arms again. "The rest of my body contains a number of self-support and repair systems that work to keep me fully operational at all times."
If Connor wasn't convinced before that he had struck gold with this Servant, he was positive of it now. Whatever supposed lack of power she possessed as a Heroic Spirit, Assassin made up for it several times over in utility. Not that she was actually lacking in power, what with two Noble Phantasms and a slew of other ninja tricks at her disposal.
Before he asked further, Connor's phone buzzed as one of his backup alarms went off, reminding him of the time.
"Agh, right. We'll have to pick this up later this afternoon, Assassin. For now, I need to get ready to go." Finishing his breakfast, Connor stood from the table and went to move for the bathroom.
"You do not require a guard?" Assassin asked, tilting her head slightly.
"No, that's–" Connor thought for a moment until he remembered something from Caster's lessons. "Actually, yes, I'd be glad for you to accompany me today, Assassin."
"Kid?"
"It's okay, Caster," the magus assured. "I just thought this may be a chance to see how good the school's defenses are at detecting unknown magical entities."
The Heroic Spirit caught on quickly, and his own smile mirrored the Master's. "Attaboy."
"Very well, Master." The mechanical shinobi stood from the chair and approached Connor dutifully.
"Uh, not just yet, w-we've got a couple minutes!" he hastily stopped her, lest she follow him into the bathroom.
He was all for having his own personal Terminator, but not Secret Service detail; that was too much.
For the next day and a half, it had been oddly peaceful in Kuoh.
Connor's plan about Assassin's Presence Concealment skill worked perfectly; nobody among the Devils at the academy had any idea she was beside him in spirit form all day, and the barriers around the school failed to detect her as well. The night before was a strong testament to her skill anyway, to be able to tail an entire group of people with no one being the wiser.
Assassin remained largely silent while on bodyguard duty throughout the day, on alert for potential threats. She did ask questions every now and then, most of which pertained to the other students and their affiliation to Connor, such as Asia, the Student Council and the other members of the Calligraphy club.
Her curiosity likewise extended to the Devils within the school. Now close enough to inspect them clearly, she expressed concern about his safety in their presence, citing that some species of oni –such as kijo– were capable of shapeshifting. It took some reassuring, but he was able to convince the automaton that these were creatures of a different sort. (2)
Come Thursday night, Assassin was back on scout patrol while Caster and Connor were on standby at the apartment. The Heroic Spirit watched as the Master fiddled with some of the sorcery ore he had gotten from Tobio. He had almost forgotten about it, but Caster's recent suggestion of crafting new runestones that enacted the Primordials jogged his memory.
Firstly, he had to cut appropriately sized pieces from the ore, then shape them using an old ritual of jewel-based magecraft, and . The shaping and carving was no issue It was something he had to do with own hands, Caster had said, or he would learn nothing from the experience.
He was almost through with the cutting when Assassin's voice suddenly rang in his mind, causing him to snap his eyes up.
'Master, I have detected a battle to the south-southwest of the city. Combatants identified to be Devils and exorcists. Multiple holy swords detected in the area.'
"Trouble!" he announced to Caster, grabbing the remote control of the TV set.
'How far away is it? Does the drone have a visual?'
'Two point five kilometers. Bringing it into view now.'
Connor had pitched the wild idea earlier that morning that perhaps it was possible to integrate or otherwise adapt Assassin's Mystic Codes to modern technology. Caster had 'borrowed' one of her surveillance drones as a test for the theory and, by the time Connor came home from school, had set it up to transmit its video feed to the living room TV via runes. Essentially, he had retrofit a CCTV camera. Assassin had deployed that same unit for its maiden flight just a short while after the sun went down.
The screen flickered to life slowly, and the drone's camera zoomed in to better view the scene, transmitting its findings in black-and-white. The resolution wasn't terrific, but it was good enough to make out who was whom and where. In front of some odd-looking monument, Connor made out the Gremory and Sitri Devils along with Irina and Xenovia engaged in combat against a man in exorcist's garb.
The first thing that crossed Connor's mind as he watched the scuffle was the hideous appearance of the swords in all three of the exorcists' hands. Those were supposed to be the Excalibur fragments? Who in their right mind would think that those monstrosities were related to the Sword of Promised Victory?
"Well, looks like the brats found 'em," Caster remarked, watching the footage closely.
"Yeah... or maybe they wanted to be found…"
Allied combatants were continually swapping places to fight the hostile exorcist, but nobody was gaining ground on that front. He exhibited the same speed as Kiba, swung his weapon with purpose and experience, and his wide grin was fully visible in the camera's telescopic lens.
For almost a full minute, the fight continued this way until a new figure arrived on the scene, drawing all attention to himself. It was an older man with balding, curly gray hair and a thin mustache, dressed in stately priest robes and bearing an absolutely hollow smile. The hostile exorcist suddenly broke off from the battle and regrouped with the old man, then tossed several flash bombs to cover their escape into the woods. Once the bright light died down, Irina, Xenovia and Kiba gave chase, leaving their three cohorts behind at the building.
"Oh, those idiots, they're running right into an ambush!" Caster growled, then pointed to the corner of the camera feed. "Look! The enemy's got air support!"
Connor turned his attention back to the feed. In the probe's field of view, a lone figure hovered over the battle. Their elaborate, armored black robes hid their physique from immediate view, and five pairs of jet-black feathered wings stretched out behind them, almost camouflaging them against the night sky like Assassin's kite.
"Ten wings… that must be–"
The figure raised an appendage and formed two light spears, then casually tossed them into the forest. The beams of light each struck the earth with the force of a naval artillery cannon, sending up tall clouds of dust and debris on impact.
'Assassin, new orders!'
'Awaiting input, Master.'
'Get in there and help the exorcists escape. If the chance arises, secure an Excalibur fragment, but retreat if that Fallen Angel spots you. Avoid confrontation with him at all costs.'
'Understood. Returning drone to begin pursuit.'
'Alert me if something changes. Good luck.'
Connor turned to look at Caster. "Make sure the Fields around the building are reinforced. Assassin's gonna try and grab a fragment. If she comes back with one, we need to keep it out of sight and out of mind."
The spirit nodded and materialized his staff. "Got it. Should we get the little lady in here, just in case?"
"I'll do that, at least to let her know what's going on." Connor heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "If worst comes to worst, we may be getting more directly involved in this than I first thought."
"A little late for that, but I'm not complaining!" the Servant said with a rather intimidating grin making its way onto his face. "I haven't had a real fight since I got here! I need some action!"
While a part of Connor was hesitant to unveil the Heroic Spirits to the world, another part was actually somewhat eager to see what would happen.
Irina kept her breathing steady while she ran after the murderous priest and his accomplice into the woods. To her left was Kiba of the Gremory peerage, with Xenovia leading the group.
She didn't know how far the two criminals were planning to go –there was a lot of wooded area around Kuoh– but she and Xe couldn't afford to lose them now! They were right there, and so were the Excaliburs!
Xenovia turned her head to look back to her partner as they ran. "Irina, I'm going far right! You and Kiba swing around to the left and cut them off–"
In the next instant, Irina was no longer running. A massive explosion all but erupted the ground underneath her, sending the exorcist flying backward like a ragdoll. It felt much longer, but for a very brief moment, she felt completely weightless.
At least, until she landed hard and her back slammed against a tree.
Everything hurt, especially her chest, and her vision was reduced to a myriad of blurs. She leaned against the tree to slowly pull herself up, her breath coming out in ragged gasps as the pain in her chest sharpened.
"Xe? Kiba-san?" she called out. Hearing no reply, she shouted. "Xe, where are you?!"
The sounds of nighttime insects were her only answer. A cold sweat formed on her brow as she came realize she was now completely alone. Surrounded by darkness and trees that almost seemed to loom over her and block out the light of the moon and stars.
A cluster of bushes suddenly rustled nearby. She turned to face that direction, Excalibur Mimic poised to strike in its single-edged form, but she saw nothing. Then another noise, and another, all coming from different directions. Someone, or something, in the forest was circling her.
"Hehehehehehahahahehe…"
A cruel, demented laugh came next from the woods. The sound bounced left to right against the surrounding trees, creating the sensation of being trapped in a rattling cage.
"Hehehehehehahahahehe…"
'This has to be Excalibur Nightmare,' she thought. No other weapon she knew of could make someone seem like they were everywhere at once. It was only an illusion of such, but the human mind played tricks on itself when the eyes couldn't see.
"Hehehehehehahahahehe…" "Hehehehehehahahahehe…" "HEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHEHE…" "HEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHEHE…" "HEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHEHE…"
The sounds quickly grew to deafening levels; she couldn't even hear herself think over the noise! She wanted so desperately to cover her ears and make it stop! But she couldn't… Not while this heretic–
"Peek-a-boo!"
She whirled around again, just in time to see the crazed exorcist swinging his stolen Excalibur Nightmare right for her eyes.
"GAAAGH! AAAAGGHH!"
Freed watched in delight as the little exorcist wench screamed and fell backward, writhing and clutching at her face while Excalibur Mimic fell from her hand.
He couldn't stop the grin that formed on his lips.
It truly amazed him how Excaliburs Transparency and Nightmare working in tandem could make torture and murder so much more fun. Slashing someone's eyes out almost always resulted in unadulterated panic just barely overshadowing intolerable pain, and it never got old to him.
It went without saying that he was… different… from most people. When normal people heard the sounds of pain or fear at their maximum intensity, they would either run from it, or try to shut it out if escape wasn't possible. The way he saw it, there was never enough of either to go around. Such sounds were like the dulcet tones of wind chimes in his ears, a familiar melody that he could hum along to with just, the right, touch~
Not even hum, really; Freed sometimes felt the urge to sing 'Ave Maria' if they managed to hit the right key. He was made for this kind of thing, after all, so why not have some fun with it? And why stop at just the first tune?
In the midst of his musing, he noticed the girl get to her hands and knees and desperately try to crawl away. Not like she could go very far, blinded and in the dead center of a wooded area, so he quite casually kept pace with her while derisively smiling. Coming to a stop beside her, he reversed his grip on Nightmare and stabbed its slender blade into her leg.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHH!"
"Tsk," he clicked his tongue. He was aiming for the back of her knee to inflict maximum pain, but she moved at the last moment, and her thigh was impaled instead. Oh well, horseshoes and hand grenades.
He glanced up through the trees to where Kokabiel had launched his light spears earlier. The big guy had moved on, likely having gone after the other exorcist and that boy scout of a Devil for the fragment they had with them.
His victim now pinned, Freed went back to pick up the forgotten Excalibur Mimic. He stared at his new prize for a while, then looked back to the still screaming tramp and grinned. There was a slow execution method from ancient China he'd read about and always wanted to try, but never had a very fitting tool for the job.
Until now, of course.
"Let's see what hurts more…"
Willing the Excalibur Mimic to take several different forms before settling on a simple knife, he cackled and approached her again, ready to begin his grisly experiment. He stopped directly over her and started to bend down when he noticed something.
It had gotten quiet… very quiet. Even with the wench below him crying and hyperventilating with pain, it was deathly quiet all around them. The nighttime creatures has stopped making noise, and the air itself felt a bit chillier. His smile returned as he recognized this feeling; it was the kind of killing intent that a predator would project while on the hunt that had everything around it stop to watch the carnage.
Suddenly, he heard something cutting through the air as it sped toward him from behind. Several, in fact. Twisting his body and his arm, he transformed Mimic into a whip and swung it to his left side to intercept the flying objects. They hit the ground with soft thumps, giving Freed the chance to see what they were.
Shurikens? Daggers? Needles?
"Okay, what the hell?" he asked to the forest with a smirk, spreading his arms tauntingly. "Who's the wannabe ninja that's trying to screw with me, huh? I'm a little busy right now, so come back in a few minutes after I've had my fun, okay?"
There was no reply, unsurprisingly. Someone was trying to pull the same trick he just did on the noisy bitch behind him. How stupid did they think he was? He knew how to play this game. He transformed Mimic into a pocket knife and slipped both it and Transparency into his coat, then drew Excalibur Rapidly and his favorite gun in quick succession. Taking several steps away from the trapped girl, he placed himself at the center of the open area to give himself plenty of room to react. His eyes darted from left to right, scanning the area while he continued to listen.
The killing intent was still hanging like a cloud, so they hadn't left.
"Well, c'mon! Let's see it, if you're so eager!"
Again, no response.
…
Five seconds passed with no change.
…
His posture relaxed a bit, and he was just about to taunt his would-be attacker again when he heard a new noise coming from his right. It sounded like a firecracker shooting off into–
He looked, and saw something flying toward him at high speed.
Was that a fucking missile?!
"WHOA!"
It was only by the blessing of Excalibur Rapidly that Freed was able to duck just enough for the incoming projectile to pass over him. He very briefly felt the heat created by the propulsion system as it passed him, then carried the warhead into a nearby tree.
The missile detonated, destroying the tree and sending Freed off his feet and tumbling across the ground. He came to rest with a faceful of dirt, which had him wiping his eyes and spitting as he sprang back up.
"Pth-pthugh! What –pugh–the fuck?!" he rasped between retches and spits. "Who –pthgh– who the fuck is shooting goddamn rockets at me?!"
Drawing Mimic back out with his left hand, he stood and waited for another attack. Once again, though, he was met with only silence, minus the slight ringing in his ears and the sounds of splintered wood and bark still raining down around him.
Morbid curiosity made him look back at the tree, not that there was much left to look at. The trunk was obliterated, while what remained of the base was completely uprooted. Limbs, leaves and branches were scattered everywhere, and large sections of bark from several nearby trees had been torn off from the blast wave. If he had been any closer, or tried to destroy the missile mid-flight, he would probably be missing a few important parts at that moment.
It was only then that he noticed the exorcist wasn't making any more noise. Did she pass out, or did the explosion kill her? He turned to look in her direction, but saw nothing.
She was just gone.
…
She and Excalibur Nightmare were both gone!
…
His mouth dropped open, the taste of soil forgotten as the realization hit him like a crowbar to the skull: He'd been had. Him, Freed Sellzen, had been played like a motherfucking fiddle by some cock-sucking wannabe ninja with an RPG!
"Oh, fuck me..."
This was bad – this was actually beyond bad. What did it matter if he had Excalibur Mimic now if it just meant losing Nightmare in exchange?! Freed looked up again, hoping the big boss hadn't come back and seen him embarrass himself. To his relief, the Cadre wasn't there.
'It's okay, Freed! Don't panic,' he forced himself to calm down. 'Nobody sees, nobody knows. You can still fix this.'
Old man Valper could still pull off what he was brought in to do, but the fewer Excalibur fragments made available to him, the weaker the end product would be for Freed to use. With Nightmare now gone, they only had three of the seven pieces – too little to really justify the partial reforging the old coot was planning.
Freed had to get that Excalibur back quickly, not just for the sake of the plan, but for his own sake as well. But first, he had to find the trail. With how heavily the little whore had been bleeding, it was clear that he'd hit something vital when he stabbed her, maybe her femoral artery. Tracking her, or whatever grabbed her, shouldn't be too difficult.
…
…
Except that it was.
After scouring the area for clues, he couldn't find anything. There were no tracks, no blood splatters, no broken foliage beyond what the missile destroyed, and the lingering smell of sawdust and black powder in the air covered up any possible scent. He couldn't even sense any foreign magic signature nearby.
"Shit,… shit, shit, shit!"
His mind raced about in a worried frenzy of what to do until he remembered: The boss had gone after the blue-haired bitch, with Valper close behind. Maybe if he caught up with them, he could get that Excalibur instead. From the moment he saw it, he knew Excalibur Destruction would be mountains of fun to use. Having decided to save the best for last, though, he had targeted the twin-tailed bitch first. A fat load of good that did him now.
He hated it; he despised the idea of leaving a job or a kill unfinished, but without a trail or time to follow it, he had no other choice. He had to forget about this one and move on. With a frustrated huff, he abandoned the small clearing and charged into the woods after his new target.
Somebody had made a fool out of him tonight, and soon enough, they were going to die brutally for it.
…
1): Artwork by syutsuri5 at zerochan is linked on my profile.
2): Female demons of Japanese folklore depicted to be more magically inclined than a typical oni.
…
Ta-da!
Yes, my friends, the Servant of the hour is Katō Danzō. From the moment she was introduced in the Shimosa storyline of FGO, she has been one of my personal favorite Assassins. It also shocks and upsets me how the number of stories on this site that feature her as a character of any importance can be counted on one hand. She deserves better, just like she deserves a skill buff in the game (her third skill, at least, to increase the target's critical damage or gather rate).
This chapter was something of a spotlight for the robot ninja mom, while moving the plot forward a bit, but we'll be getting back into the action very soon.
Final note: I've been thinking about dividing this story into a series, as opposed to keeping it in one titan-sized entry; Part I, II, III, something like that. Just as a way to keep goals in line, avoid burnout on the whole project and make it seem… more professional? Any thoughts?
If you enjoyed what you read, leave a favorite, a follow or a review to let me know. Any advice, support or simple good wishes that you feel like giving would be greatly appreciated.
As always, thank you for reading!
