Fate: Hammer Time

by TedTheRabbit

Shirou Emiya wanted to become a hero. That was clear to all who truly know him. For a long time though, he lacked the power to actually achieve that goal. No longer. No longer will he lack the power, now that the Hammer of the Odinson has chosen him as new wielder. Prepare for Thunder. ShirouxMultiple, Thor-Shirou.

38. May the Best Magus

May the Best Magus…

---

Sometimes, Fiore Forvedge absolutely hated being confined to a wheelchair.

On most days, she didn't really think about it. Her legs had been paralysed from the moment of her birth, and she thus had no perspective on how her life could have been if her legs had been functional.

Yes, in her youth, she had sometimes dreamt about walking by herself, but those dreams had long since been left behind, together with the rest of her childhood dreams. As long as she had Magic Circuits in her legs paralysing her nerves, walking was not an option for her.

As such, Fiore had put the idea of ever being 'cured' out of her mind and tried not to think too much about her disability.

That didn't mean though that she was always perfectly serene about it. While sitting in a wheelchair might not be much of a problem in her normal everyday life, there were situations in which her disability was extraordinarily difficult to deal with.

One of the best examples of such a situation would be a fight, and especially a large battle between two groups in which the fog of war made it almost impossible for someone as inexperienced as Fiore to keep track of what was going on.

In such cases, sitting in a wheelchair was a massive disadvantage that could easily get her killed, and Fiore had always made sure to avoid situations like that as much as she could.

Until today.

The purge of the Meluastea had begun, and Rosaly and Fiore had decided to join in and search for their friend Marie Alva, who may have been imprisoned somewhere inside the massive Department of Archaeology.

Sure, Fujimaru might have agreed to find Marie and keep her safe, but that didn't mean they were going to sit back like dainty princesses and wait for him to fix all their problems. They were more than capable of putting in some effort themselves.

They had egged each other on, and then they stormed into the Department of Archaeology along with the rest of the crowd after the Bounded Fields went down, dead set on finding Marie.

Fiore was regretting that hasty decision very much right now.

"Watch out!" Rosaly screamed, and she threw herself against Fiore, toppling her wheelchair and sending both girls to the ground just in time for them to avoid a Curse fired at them by some random opponent.

Said opponent was reduced to shreds a moment later by Lady Barthomeloi, and Fiore heaved a sigh of relief when she saw the danger had passed.

"Sorry for knocking you over." Rosaly apologised as she rightened the wheelchair and helped Fiore back into it. "I panicked."

"Completely understandable." Fiore quickly waved away her friend's apology. "Thank you for saving me from that Curse."

"Y-You're welcome." Rosaly stuttered, looking around with wide, half-panicked eyes. "F-Fiore, I know that we said we were going to save Marie, b-but I don't think there is much we can do here. This is too chaotic!"

And chaotic was indeed the correct word to describe what was going on.

They were standing in a gigantic hall, with multiple floors, connected by numerous flights of stairs, and countless hallways and doors. If Fiore had to compare it with something, she'd say it was like a large, multi-floored mall or something like that.

It was not a place that had been built with people like Fiore in mind. The geography of the place was confusing, the lay-out was extremely unfriendly to someone in a wheelchair, what with the many stairs and steps and other nonsense, and the floor tiles were so uneven Fiore could barely move around without being shaken silly.

There had also been countless Magical Defences in place, defences so potent that they would normally have Fiore hesitate to move even a single muscle until someone with authority over the area gave her permission to, but those Magical Defences were gone now. They had been smashed to bits earlier, by either Lady Barthomeloi or Fujimaru, whichever of the two had gone in first.

Instead, there were now countless battles taking place everywhere throughout the hall. No matter where Fiore looked, she saw groups of Enforcers battling with the combat-Mages of the Meluastea, flinging spells at each other without end, the continuous Chanting only interrupted when someone cried out in agony after being hit.

She saw officers of the Department of Policies going around, catching the criminal Mages who ran away, arresting those that lied helpless on the ground, helping the Enforcers in their battles, and just plain plundering and stealing everything they came across like a swarm of magpies.

She saw Lady Montmorency and Lord El-Melloi II standing together at the back, a fair distance away from the fighting, protected by their respective bodyguards, discussing plans and results without a care in the world, as if they weren't standing mere metres away from a pandemonium.

But most of all, she saw Lady Barthomeloi and mister Fujimaru, who were running around at speeds too fast for her to track, who jumped effortlessly from floor to floor, who broke through locked and Sealed doors as if they were made of paper, and who slapped the Mages of the Meluastea around as if they were mere children.

As she looked on, Lady Barthomeloi encased a dozen Magi in an iceberg with a negligent wave of her hand. At the same time, mister Fujimaru used a lightning attack to incapacitate a dozen Magi of his own.

Lady Barthomeloi responded by unleashing a whirlwind that sucked up every Magus in its way and eventually smashed against and through one of the biggest doors in the hall. Mister Fujimaru responded in turn by unleashing a whirlwind of his own, one that didn't track a straight path, like Lady Barthomeloi's, but curved and twisted instead, grabbing as many Magi as it could without endangering any of his allies, and then smashed through another door that was at least as big as the one Lady Barthomeloi had smashed through.

It had been mere minutes since the attack had begun, yet at this point, the number of enemies left in the hall was less than one-tenth of the original number. It had been an absolute slaughter, and Lady Barthomeloi and mister Fujimaru were responsible for over eighty percent of the enemy casualties. They still weren't satisfied however, and directed their attention to the remaining opponents, who were locked in battle with the Enforcers and mercenaries.

Unwilling to use the big spells they had displayed earlier now that their allies could potentially be caught in the blast, Lady Barthomeloi and mister Fujimaru rushed forward, dodging and deflecting any spell sent at them by the increasingly panicking Mages, and then engaged them in melee.

What followed was the most one-sided beat-down Fiore had ever seen in her life. Lady Barthomeloi and mister Fujimaru were crushing the enemy-Magi like they were mere bugs under their feet. One swipe of Lady Barthomeloi's arm knocked three opponents to the ground. A punch from mister Fujimaru sent a dozen Magi flying back. A kick from Lady Barthomeloi sent a Magus almost to the ceiling, while Fujimaru took down several others with flicks of his fingers.

It was overwhelming, it was frightening, it was mind-boggling, and it drove home like nothing else that Fiore was hopelessly, utterly unprepared for any kind of real battle.

It was clear to her now that Rosaly and she were nothing but dead weight, and if they had died, it would have been entirely logical and entirely their own fault. The only reason they were still alive after foolishly rushing in was because of those two monsters, who were rampaging around so quickly that no enemy-Magus ever got the chance to so much as look at Rosaly or Fiore before they were beaten down, that first Curse excepted.

Fiore had been very arrogant to believe she could make a difference, and she should be very glad that the price for said arrogance had been limited to a few bruises and a gracious helping of humble pie. She would never have forgiven herself if Rosaly had died, and if she herself had died…

Well, she'd be dead, and that would have been the end of it.

"Perhaps we should go and wait with Lord El-Melloi II and Lady Montmorency." Rosaly proposed softly, her thoughts probably having run along the same line as Fiore's. "I don't think we'll be of much use here."

"…No." Fiore admitted as she watched the last Meluastea-Magus be felled when mister Fujimaru punched him backwards, straight at Lady Barthomeloi, who slammed him into the ground. "Probably not."

"…I am sure they will find Marie." Rosaly tried to assure her, though the hesitation in her voice ruined the attempt. "S-She will be fine."

"Y-Yes, probably."

Neither girl held any illusions though. If the purge continued like it had in the hall, with a series of chaotic battles consisting of Enforcers and Mages slinging spells at each other while Lady Barthomeloi and mister Fujimaru rampaged around, breaking and crushing everything that moved, then Marie definitely wouldn't be fine.

She would be caught in the grinder and, if not killed, then at the very least hurt badly.

And there was nothing either Fiore or Rosaly could do about it. Their abysmal performance in the first part of the purge just now had proven that beyond a doubt.

"Hey, are you two girls okay?"

""EEP!""

A diminutive, pink-haired girl appeared so suddenly beside them that Fiore almost had a heart-attack in shock and Rosaly almost jumped out of her skin.

"Oh, oops, sorry for startling you." The pink-haired girl apologised, rubbing the back of her head with a sheepish expression. "I just couldn't help but notice you seemed out of your depth here. Would you like me to bring you back outside? Or perhaps to the Lords and Ladies over there? You'll be safer there. My name is Angy by the way, I'm an Enforcer."

"Ah, please." Fiore gratefully accepted the offer. The danger might have largely passed now that every single enemy-Magus in the hall had been defeated, but one might never know if there were still some nasty surprises. Having an Enforcer with them would be a lot safer than going alone.

"Sure thing." The pink-haired girl, who was actually more of a small woman than she was a girl now that Fiore looked at her better, took Rosaly's hand and a handle of Fiore's wheelchair and began pulling them along, gently. "Would you like to tell me what's bothering you while we walk?"

"We are worried about our friend." It was Rosaly who replied first, after a quick glance at Fiore. "She might be imprisoned here, and we wanted to get her out before… before…"

"Before those two bulldozers over there run roughshod over everything in this department." Miss Angy finished for her, casting a look at Lady Barthomeloi and mister Fujimaru, who were now talking to each other in hushed tones. "I get the sentiment, but perhaps recklessly throwing yourself into battle wasn't the wisest thing to do?"

"We see that now." Fiore mumbled, lowering her face to hide her ashamed blush.

"Hm, well, as long as you learned something and you got out alive, it's all good." Angy smiled. "Did you talk to Fujimaru or Lady Barthomeloi about this?"

"We asked mister Fujimaru to search for Marie, and he accepted." Rosaly answered, biting her lip as she looked at the redheaded teen. "But maybe he's forgotten?"

"Then we should remind him, just in case. KHAMUL!" Angy first grinned at the girls, before turning around and shouting at someone in the crowd. Within moments, a tall, cloaked, and hooded figure emerged, and promptly made his way over to the trio.

"What do you need, Angy?" The hooded man asked in a soft, scratchy voice once he had caught up to them, and Fiore could almost feel how he gave her and Rosaly a curious glance, even though there was no way for her to see his eyes.

"Could you call Fujimaru for me? We need to have a word with him, just in case he's been a forgetful fool." Angy requested, and Fiore boggled at the immensely casual tone she used when talking about someone who was clearly intimately familiar with the Vice-Director.

"No problem." The hooded man didn't share her shock however, and wandered off again.

"D-Do you know mister Fujimaru?" Rosaly asked, her voice displaying the surprise Fiore also felt.

"We did a mission with him the other day." Angy explained, her face scrunching up slightly in thought. "He was pretty impressive back then too, but it seems he's really going all out for this one. I wonder why that is."

And with that oh-so-casual statement, the trio made their way to the back of the hall, where they encountered Lord El-Melloi and Lady Montmorency.

Then Fiore almost had a heart-attack again when Lady Montmorency herself turned to give them a wry grin.

"Miss Forvedge, miss Von Stahlen-Frobrecht, I suppose you couldn't wait to get involved?" She asked, before her lips turned down and she gave them a reprimanding look. "Be glad you are still alive. Rushing in was exceedingly foolish, and not something that should be repeated."

"Yes, my lady." Rosaly squeaked in return, and Fiore nodded quickly to show her agreement, her fear making her break out in sweat all over.

There really was no overstating how scared normal Magi were of Policies. That Lord El-Melloi stood there, looking entirely at ease with being in the presence of Mirei Montmorency, was a testament to his courage and self-control.

"Now, now, Lady Montmorency." Angy countered fearlessly, flipping her hair with a huff, showing that she was just as gutsy as the lord of the Archibald. "These girls were merely worried for their friend. You cannot be mad at them for that."

"Perhaps not." Lady Montmorency shrugged. "But it was unnecessary all the same. Fujimaru already accepted your request to save your friend, did he not?"

"…You know about-"

"Of course I know about Marie Alva." Lady Montmorency huffed, giving them a small glare. "Information is vitally important in my line of work, and you are hardly the only informant I have, miss Von Stahlen-Frobrecht."

"Yes, my lady." Rosaly mumbled, lowering her head to gaze at the floor, not seeming at all surprised that Lady Montmorency was aware that it was her who had passed along information on the Meluastea and their cronies for several weeks now. "If you and miss Angy are both certain that mister Fujimaru will save Marie, we will believe you."

"Hah! You don't even have to take our word for it if you don't want to." Angy let out a short laugh, before pointing to the side. "You can just ask Fujimaru himself."

Exactly on cue, Khamul entered the scene again with Fujimaru in tow.

"Good morning, everyone." Fujimaru gave a polite greeting. "Lady Montmorency, Lord El-Melloi."

"Mister Fujimaru." Lady Montmorency greeted back, while Lord El-Melloi gave a short nod in return. "Are you still intending to save Marie Alva from her predicament here?"

"I am." Fujimaru nodded, looking slightly confused at the question. "Why would I not?"

"Forgive my asking, these girls were a bit concerned that you had forgotten." Lady Montmorency gestured at Fiore and Rosaly, who both froze at being put in the spotlight like that. "After all, you did turn this hall into a ruin. If there had been any innocents here…"

"There weren't any. I established that before the fight began. I would have done things very differently if there were." Fujimaru stated in no uncertain terms, before addressing Fiore and Rosaly directly. "You don't need to worry. I have fought an Alva before, and I know what they smell like. Once we get close to your friend, I will know and I will make sure she is safe."

"Smell?" Rosaly cocked her head to the side, frowning at Fujimaru. "Are you saying Marie smells?"

"Every Magus has a distinct scent, and the scents of family-members are often quite alike." Fujimaru replied calmly, not rising to the bait.

"I-I see." Fiore mumbled, realising she and Rosaly had underestimated him. "T-That's quite impressive."

"Not half as impressive though as smashing through those gates out there with a snap of your fingers." Lady Montmorency interrupted suddenly, glaring slightly at Fujimaru. "Breaking through Bounded Fields like that… If I wasn't so sure you'd disappear in the blink of an eye, I'd slap a Sealing Designation on you so fast you'd be spinning on yourself for a year."

"Ah..." Fujimaru tensed up, a tinge of apprehension entering his eyes.

"Relax, boy, I won't do it. There's no use to it anyway, since, as I said, you'd just disappear instantly." Mirei grumbled. "Besides, you're too useful right now to waste."

"Yes." Fujimaru nodded quickly, the relief clear in his facial expression and body language. "Lady Barthomeloi and the Enforcers have to clean up for a bit, and then I'll break through the other Bounded Fields in this hall. I'm just waiting for Lady Barthomeloi's signal now."

"You may consider this the signal, mister Fujimaru."

Fiore once more almost had a heart-attack when the Vice-Director herself suddenly appeared on scene, her face set in a grim expression and power rolling off her in waves.

What was it with powerful people and appearing out of thin air?! If they were going to continue doing that for much longer, Fiore might not get out of this Department alive after all. She'd die from the shock.

"You can start when you're ready, mister Fujimaru." Lady Barthomeloi repeated, though anyone with two functioning brain cells knew that 'when you're ready' really meant 'right this moment'.

"Yes, yes, I'll get to it. We can't be standing around here for too long after all." Fujimaru said, and Fiore was once more struck dumb by the sheer casualness that he used when addressing the Vice-Director. "We have to find more enemies to defeat."

"Indeed." There was a flash of amusement visible on that grim face. "Find us more enemies, and maybe you can make up for your disadvantage."

For the first time in the conversation, Fujimaru's pleasant expression broke, a put-upon look taking its place.

"As if that is so important."

"It is. I can infer from your behaviour that you are most displeased by your disadvantage." Lady Barthomeloi's expression changed into something that could, with some imagination, almost be seen as smug and challenging. "Perhaps you should try harder from now on."

"Excuse me?" Lord El-Melloi fell in, looking as curious as Fiore felt. "What disadvantage?"

"Fujimaru and I decided to have a competition about who can defeat most opponents during this purge." Lady Barthomeloi announced, completely ignoring Fujimaru's muttering that she had decided that alone. "At the moment, I am leading with eighty-three opponents defeated."

It was an immense number, worthy of the Vice-Director, but thinking back on the few minutes of extreme violence, Fiore suspected mister Fujimaru's number wasn't much lower.

"Fujimaru?" Lady Montmorency prompted him when he failed to reply for a few seconds, clearly also very curious.

"Fine." The redhead hissed. "I have defeated seventy-nine opponents so far."

"Then I don't know what you're moping around like that for!" Lady Montmorency cried, even as everyone else boggled in shock at just how little the difference was. "You can still turn this around, boy. Just apply yourself a bit more."

"Sounds like the same goes for you, Lorelei." A blonde woman, whom Fiore wasn't familiar with, suddenly joined the conversation, also popping up out of nowhere, though by now, Fiore was so used to it she barely reacted anymore. "You're ahead by a hair. Lose focus and you lose the game."

"I do not intend to lose anything." The Vice-Director bit out. "I will win this."

"That's the spirit!" The blonde woman laughed, and then…

Then she hugged the Vice-Director, pressing the woman's face into her cleavage.

That girl was going to get shredded!

Fiore covered her face, Rosaly shrunk back, Lord El-Melloi stumbled backwards while the girls who were with him threw themselves in front of him, and Fujimaru took a step forward…

"Isabelle, let go of me."

…When Lady Barthomeloi's irritated voice sounded from in-between the blonde girl's breasts, the terrifying woman standing still where she was and the blonde girl remaining remarkably unshredded.

"I am not Isabelle! My name is Rit." The blonde girl pouted, but she did let go of the Vice-Director. "Could you please remember that?"

Lady Barthomeloi sighed as she straightened up again, but then she nodded once. "I will try."

"Please do!"

Silence reigned for a few more seconds after that, and then Fujimaru decided to speak up, his voice now sounding artificially casual.

"So, you know each other?"

"Lei-Lei is my half-sister." The blonde woman, Rit, exclaimed happily, beaming at the redheaded teen. "We have the same mother, and I'm only a year older than she is. We didn't grow up together, but we hang out sometimes these days, and we've gotten really close, if I do say so myself."

"Do not call me Lei-Lei." Lady Barthomeloi snapped, very notably not disputing any of the other things Rit had just said.

"You're half-sisters?" Fujimaru asked, surprise colouring his tone, as he looked from one woman to the other. "But you look nothing alike."

Fiore had to agree with that. The brown-haired, haughty-looking woman with a stiff kind of beauty was nothing like the blonde woman with a perpetual grin and a more conventional kind of beauty. There was a difference in height, in skin-tone, in eye-colour, in disposition, and, perhaps most notable, in the size of their chests, with Rit easily outsizing Lady Barthomeloi by a factor of two or even three, but Fiore didn't think it wise to mention or even think too much about that.

"We both take after our fathers." Rit explained, her grin not lessening for a second. "But we're really close, aren't we, Lorelei?"

"…Of sorts." Lady Barthomeloi's tone was extremely stiff as she spoke, but she still didn't dispute the other woman.

"I… am glad to hear it." Fujimaru said hesitantly, before taking a step back and pointing off into the distance. "I… uh, I think I will get started on breaking some Bounded Fields now."

It was a very forced change in subject, but there was no one present who did not immediately seize the opportunity to leave the matter of Lady Barthomeloi having a half-sister behind them.

"Lady Montmorency and I will continue regulating the mission." Lord El-Melloi said quickly.

"Indeed. There is still much that needs to be done." Lady Montmorency agreed.

"We'll press the attack once you finish, mister Fujimaru." Angy called out while she and Khamul grabbed Rit's arms and quickly dragged her away.

"We have lost too much time already. We shall press on." Even Lady Barthomeloi herself gratefully accepted the straw that Fujimaru held out for her. "Now that Magical Defences are no longer an obstacle, I want this Department cleared before the end of the afternoon."

"Before five? That should be doable." Fujimaru nodded.

"Indeed."

Fujimaru and Lady Barthomeloi walked away again together, talking amicably as they went, and Fiore could only stare in silent stupefaction.

The atmosphere here was way more casual than she had expected, and she had no idea what to do with that fact.

Neither did Rosaly apparently, as the girl was staring ahead silently, her dazed eyes showing she wasn't entirely focused anymore.

Well, they shouldn't complain too much though. It had been extremely weird, but at least they had gotten confirmation that mister Fujimaru was indeed working on getting Marie out of the Department unharmed, and that Lady Barthomeloi and Lady Montmorency, while not outright supportive, at least weren't against it.

That was an immense relief.

---

In all of the times George Wesley had gone on missions with the Vice-Director, he'd never, never seen her argue with anyone.

Lorelei Barthomeloi didn't argue. She commanded, she ordered, she passed judgement, and she sometimes verbally fought with her enemies, but arguing? Wesley had never seen it happen. People were too scared of her for that ever to be possible.

Until now apparently, as a few minutes ago, Wesley had born witness to Lady Barthomeloi arguing with Shirou Fujimaru.

No, worse than arguing. They had squabbled.

Fujimaru had squabbled with the Vice-Director, ignored her orders multiple times, brazenly argued against her opinions, yet despite all that, he not only still lived, but he also seemed to have actually gotten closer to her in the process.

Who knew that Lorelei Barthomeloi liked men who challenged and defied her?

Wesley didn't, that was for sure.

It almost made him wonder if he shouldn't have been more challenging and defiant in his interactions with her. Would she have liked him more if he'd done so?

…Nah, probably not.

"Don't just stand around, Wesley." One of his compatriots suddenly called out to him, and Wesley came out of thoughts just in time to dodge the smack that almost landed on his head.

"What the hell!?" He exclaimed.

"Oh, so you did notice that, did you?" Evert Vaarken, said compatriot, a large, buff man with red hair and numerous scars, clad in a very tight biker's suit, huffed, before pointing to the side. "Come on, man, there's still plenty of work to do. We need all hands on deck, especially since Lady Montmorency wants us to be finished by the end of the day."

"Yes, yes, I'm coming." Wesley nodded, casting a glance around the first hall of the Department of Archaeology, which, though it must have been quite nice before, was little more than a ruin now.

"The big ones might be good at killing the enemies, but after that's done, they still need a lot of people to heal the wounded on both sides, to restrain and guard the prisoners, to gather the loot, to deactivate any left-over traps, and of course, to follow that Fujimaru-kid around while he breaks down Bounded Fields." Vaarken continued happily, clenching his fist in determination. "In other words, hours and hours of work, for which we'll be paid royally."

"Right, I almost forgot, money is everything to you." Wesley sighed, casting his eyes upwards to look at the ceiling. "Greedy looter."

"Money is a better cause than perving on the Queen." Vaarken shot back.

"Oi oi! Ssssssh!" Wesley immediately shushed him, holding a finger to his lips. "Don't say that so loudly, idiot!"

"No one's listening anyway." Vaarken shook his head. "And even if they did, no one would dare tell on you. She's an unpredictable one, that Queen of ours, and she might very well shoot the messenger."

"…I suppose that's true."

"I never really understood what you like so much about her anyway." Vaarken continued, gesturing at his chest. "She's got almost nothing on top, and her icy expression pretty much ruins all the beauty she has."

"As I have told you so often before, a great ass can easily make up for any lack in boobs." Wesley said in a sagely tone. "As for her icy expression, I rather like that."

"Guess we just have different tastes." Vaarken shrugged.

"As we have established numerous times before." Wesley nodded.

The men then temporarily paused their conversation to get started on their work, and after they spent some time hauling loot, restraining prisoners, and deactivating traps, they met up again, with Wesley carrying several boxes of gems and Vaarken carrying two unconscious prisoners over his mighty shoulders.

"Man, the Meluastea are rich." Wesley remarked happily, looking at the boxes he was carrying. "Or rather, were rich."

"They had lots of personnel too, I have been hauling prisoners around for an hour now, and more keep appearing." Vaarken laughed. "It seems their promises of riches and power attracted a lot of people who were willing to close their eyes to treason."

"Have you ever been tempted to join the Meluastea, Vaarken?" Wesley asked curiously. "You could have earned a lot of money."

"Never been tempted for a second." Vaarken shook his head however. "Perhaps I could have earned a lot of money, but I would have had to give up my freedom in return, and that was not something I was willing to do. I am a freelancer because I don't want anyone to own my ass. It's far too good an ass to be owned by anyone."

Vaarken accentuated his statement by shaking his hindquarters, which, because of the bodysuit, were very pronounced indeed.

"A wise policy." Wesley nodded, his mood good enough to not make a snarky comment. "If you aren't owned by anyone, then no one can drag you down with them if they fall."

"That's what we agreed on, brother." Vaarken laughed, holding out a fist for a bump, and Wesley didn't leave him hanging. "Now, let's put in some more work."

"Yes, let's."

And so, the men continued their job, both of them in an excellent mood, laughing and smiling all the way. Things were going extremely well, much better than they should, and it looked like they would soon be getting a massive payday for what promised to be less than a day's work.

Assaulting a Department and taking down a Ruling Family had never been so easy.

---

Shirou broke down another set of Bounded Fields surrounding the Workshop of some small, irrelevant Magus with as much effort as it would cost a normal man to break a razor-thin sheet of ice, before watching silently as a large, red-haired Enforcer wearing a skin-tight bodysuit immediately stormed into the Workshop and arrested the owner.

Things had been going on like this for a while now. The first hall of the Department of Archaeology might not have held anything particularly dangerous or illegal, but there were still many Workshops spread around everywhere, all of them holding people who had willingly thrown their lot in with the Meluastea and thus had to be arrested.

Those people were small fry, but not arresting them would mean leaving enemies at their back, and that was not something they were willing to do. Too much risk of a pincer attack or ambush.

"How many Workshops remain?" Lady Barthomeloi asked irritably when the latest Magus was dragged away.

"Three. We can be done with this in no more than fifteen minutes." Shirou replied.

That was clearly fifteen minutes too many for Lady Barthomeloi, but she didn't speak up, so the redhead decided to take that as permission to go on.

"The next Workshop is down that hallway." He said, starting down the hallway in question, and the group of Enforcers followed behind him again.

Ultimately, it only took fourteen more minutes for him to wrap it all up, allowing them to leave the small alleys and back rooms behind to focus on the big halls again.

Now that Shirou had entered the Department of Archaeology, he could sense that the Department was shaped roughly like a four-leaved clover. There were four main halls, oval in shape, each in one of the four Cardinal directions, and every hall also had a massive network of hallways, rooms, corridors, and passageways surrounding it, providing shelter to countless Magi of all kinds. The one to the South was the one they had cleared first and were standing in now, but there were other halls to the West, North, and East which were still firmly in the possession of the Meluastea.

The halls were all linked to each other by large hallways and countless other connections, and Shirou also detected something underground, far beneath the department.

He reported this to Lady Barthomeloi, before lifting an eyebrow at her. "Now then, where would you like to go first? West, North, or East?"

"Let's start with the left and work our way to the right." Lady Barthomeloi decided in the blink of an eye. "We shall continue our competition in the Western hall first."

"Very well." Shirou sighed, before they made their way over to said hall, to indeed continue their game.

That game had been something that Lady Barthomeloi had decided entirely on her own. After he had rejected her offer of protection, and they had squabbled about it for a bit, Lady Montmorency had told them that they should stop wasting time and that there were plenty of bad guys for the both of them.

Something in that sentence had awakened something inside Lady Barthomeloi, and she had suddenly demanded of him that they would have a competition about who could take down the most opponents during the purge.

There were no other rules or conditions, no caveats or loopholes, it really was just about racking up the numbers and seeing who had the highest score at the end.

That much, Shirou had understood. He didn't like it, turning something like this into a game, but he understood what she meant and what was expected of him.

What he didn't understand however was the thing she had muttered after. Something about her being the elf and him being the dwarf.

Yes, he was shorter than she was, a bit, but she was an adult woman while he was fourteen. He still had some growing left to do, and with the way said growth was going, he would be taller than her in two or three years.

There was no way he was a dwarf, and he didn't really see why she would be an elf either.

By the way, wasn't she supposed to hate everything inhuman? Or was role-playing an exception?

So many questions, but no answers.

After breaking into the Western hall, Lady Barthomeloi and he found several dozen opponents waiting for them there.

First blood went to Lady Barthomeloi, who sunk several Magi up to their necks into the ground with a quick flick of her fingers, completely incapacitating them. Second blood went to Shirou however, who used a Runic Array to paralyse several others.

Naturally, their opponents didn't just let that happen, and they launched many attacks in return. With the great number of enemy-Magi, there was a great variety of spells. Most of them were elemental in nature, while others were Curses, or Enchantments, or even Gem-based.

With his Magic Resistance, Shirou was able to ignore them. Meanwhile, Lady Barthomeloi, upon seeing Shirou take the attacks without flinching, was noticeably unhappy with the fact she had to block and dodge them.

With her mood having deteriorated, she launched a devastating whirlwind attack in retaliation that took down more than a dozen Magi and put her squarely ahead in their little game. Shirou reacted in turn however by launching several lightning bolts at pockets of Magi standing around, pulling even with her again.

It continued like that for a while, both of them rapidly increasing their score as much as they could, and by the time the hall was cleared, Shirou was now the one leading with 175 opponents defeated against Lady Barthomeloi's 173 opponents.

Rather than being mad however, the brunette just seemed to get more excited by the fact she was behind.

"My compliments, mister Fujimaru." She looked at him with a strangely satisfied expression. "This competition has already proven to be one of the best I have ever participated in. Do not celebrate just yet though. I will defeat you in the end."

"…I am glad to hear that you are enjoying yourself." Shirou replied after a moment, deciding to stick with being polite and cordial. "But I will not be defeated so easily."

"Excellent!" Lady Barthomeloi almost seemed to glow in happiness, though her lips only curled upwards the slightest amount, before turning around to look back at the hallway they had come from, where reinforcements were now arriving, among them a familiar face. "Sir Gideon, you arrive at last."

"Apologies, apologies." The black-haired Enforcer laughed sheepishly as he and his team entered the hall as well, followed by the other Enforcers, mercenaries, and whoever else was participating in the purge. "You are both too fast for us to keep up with."

"Naturally." Lady Barthomeloi said haughtily, before turning to Shirou again. "Mister Fujimaru, I take it there are hidden Workshops and rooms in this hall as well?"

"Many more than in the Southern hall. We'll likely have to spend quite some time here to find them all." Shirou confirmed. "There are also many prisoners present."

"How do you know they are prisoners?" A tall, purple-haired woman, whom Shirou recognised a second later as Kyra, asked curiously.

"Most of them have no potential for Magecraft, and many are restrained in some way. I assumed that was enough for them to likely be prisoners."

"You assume correctly." Gideon nodded sharply. "Tell us where they are. We will split up and cover as much ground as possible."

"Do you have a way to quickly break through Bounded Fields then?" Lady Barthomeloi asked, not unkindly, but still piercingly.

"…No." Gideon shook his head, and though it was a partial lie, as Khamul could very well break through weaker Bounded Fields quickly, Shirou did not dispute him.

"Then you will search the hall for any remaining opponents, and you will find and mark down all places where you cannot proceed because of Magical Defences." Lady Barthomeloi ordered. "Fujimaru and I will work as quickly as possible and come to reinforce you when needed."

"Yes, lady Vice-Director." Gideon saluted, before he and all other people present spread out through the hall to follow her orders.

"You truly are a convenient tool to possess, mister Fujimaru." Lady Barthomeloi then told him, and since she sounded like she was trying to give him a compliment, he decided to take it as such. "Your only downsides are your indispensability and the fact you can only be in one place at a time."

"You managed perfectly well before I arrived." Shirou protested.

"Yes, but now that I have seen how easy it can be to break through Bounded Fields with the correct person on my side, I would be loath to return to the old ways." Lady Barthomeloi smiled mysteriously, an expression he had never before seen on her, and then she returned to her poker face. "Let us not waste any more time. Proceed with the search."

"Yes, Lady Barthomeloi."

---

In the meantime, somewhere else inside the Western hall of the Department of Archaeology, quite close to where Shirou and Lady Barthomeloi were standing, Lysanne Saward was literally running for her life, away from the sounds of combat and towards her Workshop.

A purge had begun! An actual, freaking purge, the likes of which Lady Saward had only heard of in stories before.

It wasn't supposed to happen. The cautionary tales about Ruling Families and even entire factions being destroyed had always seemed so far-fetched to her, yet now such a destruction was taking place, and she was part of the losing faction.

The Meluastea had miscalculated! They had miscalculated badly, and now they, as well as everyone who had thrown their lot in with them, were paying the price.

A price in blood, extracted by an army of Enforcers and mercenaries, led by Lorelei Barthomeloi herself. The Queen of the Clocktower, who had come down from her ivory tower to bring ruin upon those who opposed her.

Against such an opponent, there was nothing lady Saward could do but run in terror.

As she ran, Lady Saward cursed. She cursed the Barthomeloi, the Department of Policies, the Enforcers, the Clocktower, the stringent laws, and the concept of purges.

Most of all though, she cursed Torben Meluastea.

Torben had been the one who had recruited her into the Department of Archaeology several years ago. Before then, she'd just been a researcher in the Department of Lore, but Torben had quickly lured her in with promises of freedom, power, and riches. He had introduced her to the criminal life, taught her about the possibilities that opened up once a Magus let go of ridiculous rules and laws, and had even helped her set up her first blackmail scheme. It wouldn't be incorrect to say that he was basically her sponsor, and he had acted as her liaison with the Meluastea-family ever since.

He was the one who gave her assignments and collected the payment she owed to the Meluastea-family, but he was also the one who arranged for her Workshops to be well-stocked, who got her a few underlings when she needed them, and who protected her from the fall-out whenever she broke a law or two.

It was a mutually beneficial relationship, made even better by the fact that Torben was generally more than willing to accept sex as payment, in lieu of money or favours. A quick tumble in the sack ensured without fail that Lady Saward could rest easy for another month, safely ensured of being backed by a Ruling Family.

When everything had been going well, the relationship between them was nothing short of excellent.

Now she cursed his very name however, and not just because she needed someone to blame. She was raging because he had given her completely incorrect information.

The last time they'd slept together, Torben had been in a talkative mood, and he had assured her, with complete and utter certainty, that there was no chance at all that the Meluastea were ever going to be purged. Lady Barthomeloi and her ilk had no proof of anything, and no way to obtain proof either.

He had promised her that they were safe.

And now he had been proven a liar, or at the very least an ignorant fool who had no idea of what was going on.

A purge was happening, the Meluastea were going down, and Lady Saward now had to think of something quickly before she would meet the same fate.

She was under no illusions that she would be let off easy. She had not only worked for the Meluastea, making her guilty by association, but she had also blackmailed a number of students, which, while common, was actually still a punishable crime if discovered. To make matters worse, she'd also cooperated on Dead Apostle Research, Demonology, and experiments on illegally captured Magi.

Furthermore, her star pupils, Yoshi Kawakami and Yuu Kawakami, whom she had been blackmailing, were both talented enough that any influential family would gladly accept them as proteges, and if the Kawakamis then asked for Lady Saward to be killed, then no one would hesitate to get rid of the fallen, imprisoned, worthless former lady.

If she was caught, she was screwed, plain and simple.

As such, she needed a plan, a plan that could get her out of the department safely. Devising such a plan was easier said than done however, especially since she was very near panicking.

That was why she'd kept things simple for now. The first thing she planned to do was to get back to her Workshop and hide under its powerful Bounded Fields. That should give her a bit of a respite.

Also, her ally and partner in crime, Millicent Raverth Archibald, was waiting for her there.

Together, they would stand more of a chance of devising a good plan than separately, so lady Saward was quite eager to regroup with her friend.

She eventually made it to her Workshop unharmed and unimpeded. As she had expected, she found Millicent there, sitting on a couch, looking…

Entirely relaxed and calm?

"Millicent!" Lady Saward called out to her partner, quickly walking up to her. "Millicent, we are under attack!"

She honestly thought that was obvious from the explosions and screams in the distance, but perhaps Millicent was very absorbed in thought right now and had missed these obvious clues.

"Ah, Lysanne, good to see you." Millicent smiled happily. "Yes, we are under attack, I am aware of that."

"T-Then why are you so calm?" Lady Saward spluttered, unable to believe how utterly blasé the other woman was being.

"Because I already have an idea to get out of this."

"Y-You do?" Lady Saward gasped, and she felt a massive knot unravel in her chest when Millicent nodded confidently, breathing a massive sigh of relief. "Oh my God, you have no idea how happy I am to hear that."

"I can imagine. I mean, if we're caught, we're screwed. There's no way that Policies is going to be soft on us, is there?" Millicent echoed lady Saward's own sentiments, getting up from the couch and stretching her arms a bit.

"No, definitely not." Lady Saward agreed, the knot returning at the mere mention of that department, though it wasn't as tight as before now that there was a possible way out for them. "Shouldn't you get dressed by the way?"

Lady Saward made that suggestion because Millicent was still clad only in lingerie, and quite a racy set at that, which might not be ideal for combat. The white-haired woman shook her head confidently though, waving the suggestion aside.

"No need. In fact, the way I am currently dressed might work to my advantage, depending on how the plan goes exactly."

"Should I strip as well then?"

"Also no need." Millicent shook her head again, giving Lady Saward a side-ways smile. "There's no particular advantage in you stripping as well right now."

"I see." Lady Saward nodded, thus keeping her clothes on. "Could you tell me about your plan? You have made me quite curious."

"Yes, I will." Millicent nodded, her smile disappearing to make place for a serious expression. "First of all, you should know that it is not exactly an honourable plan."

"Honourable?" Lady Saward huffed in amusement at Millicent's use of that particular word. "Since when do we care about honour?"

"True, but for this plan, something truly underhanded is needed. I mean, it's quite a betrayal honestly, and I confess I am somewhat hesitant to go through with it."

"Millicent, listen." Lady Saward held up her hands, giving her friend and partner a wide smile. "I appreciate your hesitance in betraying our allies, I truly do, it's cute, but you need to get over it. This is a purge; if we don't act fast, it will be all over for us soon. In these kinds of situations, it is every person for themselves. Old alliances and friendships are worthless now, and we need to do whatever it takes to survive and retain our freedom."

Perhaps having expected her to say that, Millicent smiled again.

"Of course." She agreed happily. "I already thought you'd say that, but I felt I had to check first. Sorry if you feel that I wasted precious time with that."

"Oh well, it only took a second." Lady Saward shrugged, before getting back to the point. "But what about your plan?"

"Indeed, my plan." Millicent nodded, her expression turning serious once more. "Lysanne, be a dear and get my boots from that closet, would you?"

"What am I, your servant?" Lady Saward huffed, but she did as was asked, turning around to walk to the closet, which she then opened before bending down to grab her friend's boots-

"I am sorry, Lysanne."

-Before something smashed into the back of her head, and Lysanne fell forward, the black spots before her eyes rapidly consuming her entire field of vision until black was all she saw.

---

Millicent wasn't entirely sure what she felt as she watched Lysanne slump to the ground after receiving a whack to the back of the head with a chair.

On one hand, the woman had been a good friend of Millicent's for years now. They had joined the Department of Archaeology at about the same time, both of them having been recruited by Torben Meluastea, and they had become fast friends. They had a lot in common after all.

Both women were driven and willing to go to extreme lengths to get what they wanted. They had no qualms about using others or themselves to further their ambitions. They were both highly cynical, and had long lost faith in the goodness of humanity.

Another point of similarity, perhaps the most important, was that both Lysanne and Millicent were elders of their respective families, and both had been forced to watch powerlessly as a complete outsider suddenly took over said families.

For Millicent, it had been Waver Velvet who had come out of nowhere to knock her another rung down on the ladder of succession, and for Lysanne, it had been Ariadne Saward who had taken over the reins, a woman who had married into the Saward-family.

The women had spent many a day complaining to each other about their lots in life, and Millicent would be lying if she said she hadn't become fond of Lysanne, and she did not doubt Lysanne had become fond of her in turn.

On the other hand though, there was a purge going on right now, Policies was taking apart Archaeology brick by brick, and if Millicent didn't act quickly to save herself, all would be lost. Her freedom was worth any price, even her only friend. No friendship was worth being tortured and killed over. Not in the Moonlit World.

Lysanne might have been dear to her, but Millicent could easily find someone to replace her with a bit of effort. No amount of effort would get back her life though. Ditto for her freedom in case she miraculously wasn't sentenced to death.

So she had made the choice to betray her ally, and now that she had done so, she had to make the most of it.

Fortunately, the Workshop had a lot of materials, including Enchanted rope, which Millicent used to quickly restrain her unconscious friend. She tied her ankles together, as well as her lower arms, and since she had plenty of rope left at that point, also her knees, before making sure to loop the rope around her torso several times. Then she just had to add a gag, and voila, one helpless victim, ready to be sacrificed.

The end-result was quite an erotic picture, if Millicent did say so herself.

Now all she had to do was wait for the Enforcers to arrive, and then pretend she was a victim instead of a perpetrator. From now on, Millicent Archibald wasn't in this Workshop because she was a scheming Magus, but because she was forced to by blackmail and threats.

She couldn't pretend to be a prisoner herself, as she had accompanied Lysanne sometimes and participated in her crimes, which meant Policies' spies probably had her pegged already, but she should be able to pull off the act of a victim of blackmail, fitting right in with the dozens of other Magi in Archaeology who had suffered a similar fate.

It admittedly was far from a perfect plan, especially considering Lysanne would likely tell her interrogators the truth and then some, in retaliation for Millicent's betrayal, but if Millicent stuck to her story, she might be able to get through this in one piece.

She was mainly relying however on the support of her family, the Archibald, to get out of this situation. Granted, the other elders didn't exactly like her, to say nothing about Waver Velvet, but none of them would want to suffer the blow to their reputation that having one of their own be convicted for treason would bring. That would put them even further from reclaiming their lost glory.

Couple that with Velvet's soft heart and righteous nature, which she would take full advantage of by begging and pleading pathetically with him, and Millicent should be able to get herself out of prison after a week at most, hopefully with minimal torture.

After that, she would keep herself under the radar for the rest of her life. No more crimes and stupid adventures for her, she'd become a boring researcher who kept herself to every law the Clocktower had.

Her little rebellion against the status quo had been nice while it lasted, but it was over now, and she had to accept that if she wanted to survive. She really had to make the switch from Millicent, the cold-hearted, law-breaking Magus to Millicent, the proper, well-behaving young woman.

Now to set the scene.

After verifying that Lysanne was tightly secured, Millicent walked over to the nearest desk, and then smashed her face into it several times, making sure not to hold back at all, giving herself a broken nose and many bruises. Then, she grabbed a knife and used to make cuts all over her body, before pressing the knife into Lysanne's hand for a moment. Lastly, she pulled her underwear eschew, as if she had hastily put it on after it had been forcibly removed.

Hey, if she was going to play the victim, she might as well go the entire way.

Millicent then threw herself onto the couch, and began nursing her wounds as well as she could. She didn't know how long it would take the Enforcers to get into the Workshop after all, and she'd rather not die of blood loss before then.

That was honestly one of the few downsides of the plan. The sheer length of time she'd be forced to spend in the Workshop, waiting for someone to break through the Bounded Fields, which could very well take hours, if not days.

There was enough water and food, and if Lysanne awoke, Millicent could just give her another whack, but it would be very boring.

But there was nothing she could do about it, so she settled down to wait.

It was only several minutes later however that she felt the Bounded Fields surrounding the Workshop shatter without warning. From one moment to the next, they just came apart, and if Millicent hadn't already been lying on the couch, she would have fallen down in shock.

She didn't have long to be surprised however, as the door was opened merely seconds later, and four people walked through, prompting Millicent to adopt her most pathetic and pleading look, like a proper victim who was in dire need of help from strong, capable Enforcers.

Millicent's heart stopped however when Lorelei Barthomeloi herself appeared in view. It was so unexpected that the white-haired woman forgot to breathe for a few seconds, her entire focus aimed at that terrifying lady, while the fact that Waver Velvet's new student as well as the Kawakamis had accompanied said lady barely registered.

Her singular focus was interrupted however when the male Kawakami, Yoshi, made an exclamation of victory.

"There she is!" He cried, pointing at the bound Lysanne. "That's the woman who was blackmailing us!"

"I see." Velvet's student –come, what was his name? Ah yes, Fujimaru– nodded, moving towards Lysanne to study her for a moment, before rising again. "Out cold. It will be at least four hours until she wakes, and she is restrained well. There's no need to worry about her."

"Good." Lady Barthomeloi said, though she didn't look at him, instead choosing to give Millicent a truly terrifying glare. "And who are you?"

"M-M-Millicent Raverth Archibald!" She squeaked, not even having to fake the stutter. "I-I w-wasn't involved in a-anything-"

"She lies." Fujimaru said coldly, frowning at Millicent. "And those wounds are self-inflicted, mere minutes ago. This is nothing but an act."

"Hm, I suspected as much." Lady Barthomeloi huffed, her glare becoming possibly even more terrifying. "My spies already informed me that you were in league with the Meluastea, and one of my best informants revealed you were doing so entirely voluntarily. There is no use in lying."

"I-I-I…" Millicent wanted to argue, to deny the woman's words, anything to salvage her plan that was falling apart at first contact with the enemy, but those eyes… Those terrifying eyes didn't let her get a single word out.

"Take her away." Lady Barthomeloi ordered a few Enforcers who had entered a moment ago. "Bring her to Lady Montmorency and Lord El-Melloi. See if there is anything Lord El-Melloi is willing to say on her behalf. And cover her up before you go."

"Here." Fujimaru said, holding out a cloak that had suddenly appeared in his hand, and one of the Enforcers gratefully accepted it, before tightly wrapping it around Millicent, effectively covering and restraining her in one stroke.

Then she was hauled off, and Lysanne was dragged away right after her.

And now, faced with the absolute failure of her plan and the prospect of being imprisoned, tortured, and executed, Millicent could only really think about one thing.

'I hope they don't put me in a cell with Lysanne.'

---

"Two more prisoners here!"

"Another two?! Where are we going to leave them? Bring them to cellblock C and ask the warden if there is any room left."

"I've got three more prisoners myself."

"What?! Uhm, cellblock A, tell them to expand their Bounded Field as much as they can so they can fit a few more captives into it."

"I found a load of books on Curses."

"Put them in box E, with the rest of the books."

"I'm pretty sure these books are Cursed themselves though."

"Box G then, with the other Cursed objects."

In the Southern hall of the Department of Archaeology, a lot was happening at once.

After the hall had been cleared and everyone in league with the Meluastea had been arrested, Lady Montmorency had decided to build her temporary field-headquarters in said hall, and now, captives and loot from all over the department were being hauled in at great speed.

The elderly woman and her personnel were managing it as well as they could, but since the inflow of people and property was so great, a lot of improvisation had to be done.

Several rudimentary cell blocks had been erected in the hall, really just small spaces with some Magical Defences and guards around it, as well as field-hospices, impromptu morgues, and large boxes for the loot.

Furthermore, there were guard posts securing the entrances, making sure the Meluastea couldn't mount a counterattack and other families couldn't try to profit from the confusion, and countless scribes were recording everything that happened and everything that was said, for the history books.

Enforcers were searching through the wreckage for hidden artifacts, mercenaries searched for anything that could get them a quick buck, and policy personnel did whatever they were told to do.

It was the very picture of somewhat-organised chaos, and though Waver felt impressed by it, he made sure not to get swept up in the currents. He rather remained close to the wall, merely looking out over the scene.

He didn't have the skills or knowledge required to make a valuable contribution, and if he did try to help, he'd just be in the way.

And if there was anything Waver hated, it was being in the way.

So he did nothing. He remained where he was, near the wall, patiently waiting until something would happen that was relevant to him.

"This is chaos." Flat suddenly stated in no uncertain terms, commenting on the scene before him. "Pure chaos. Prisoners and loot are coming in faster than they can handle. They are managing this by the skin of their teeth."

"Well, what did you expect?" Svin countered, sounding insulted on behalf of Policies. "They came here expecting to have days to work through the Department of Archaeology, but now that Fujimaru is doing his thing again, they suddenly have to fit all that work into mere hours."

Svin spoke the truth. It wasn't that the people of Policies had been unprepared or sloppy, it was just that this was an unprecedented situation that required a lot of improvisation to deal with.

It would have been enough to overwhelm anyone, and the only reason things were going acceptably well nonetheless was because of Lady Montmorency.

She truly was living up to her reputation as the undisputed top-bureaucrat and logistics-expert of the Clocktower. At that very moment, she was giving orders to three separate groups at once, while one hand wrote down the names of prisoners and the other hand wrote down the collected loot, at the same time.

Somehow, despite all the chaos, she seemed to have everything well in hand, and that image, that aura of competence, greatly contributed to the fact that nothing major had gone wrong so far.

Yes, it was chaos, but it was an effective kind of chaos.

"There are so many prisoners." Grey whispered, looking with wide eyes at the improvised cell blocks, which were bursting at the seams with people now. "What are they going to do with them?"

"I couldn't say." Waver admitted, before looking to the side, at Adashino. "Do you know what will happen to them?"

The snake-lady promptly nodded in response, giving him another one of her mysterious smiles.

"But you aren't going to tell us?"

Adashino shrugged, before pointing to her mouth and then to Lady Montmorency.

"She is under an order of silence, Lord El-Melloi." Ortensia, who sat on her knees and had been saying prayers for all the lives lost today, reminded him kindly. "She cannot tell you even if she wanted to."

"Right, I remember." Waver nodded, rubbing the back of head, before glancing over at the cellblocks again. "Well, whatever you and your ilk are planning for the captives, Adashino, you should do it quickly. There are enough prisoners to make things very difficult if they escape, and I do not fancy fighting a horde of Magi who have nothing left to lose."

"Don't worry, Waver, my darling, I will protect you!" Lehrman exclaimed, sidling up to him again. "On my honour, they will only get to you over my cold, dead body."

"…Thanks, Lehrman." Waver replied, unsure what to do in the face of the girl's sincerity, so he focused on Adashino again, who was hiding a smile behind her hand. "But you do have a plan for all those prisoners?"

The kimono-clad woman nodded in response, and Waver let out a breath of relief.

"But man, Fujimaru really is a game-changer, isn't he?" Bazett piped up. "I mean, can you imagine how long it would have taken us to even just get into the Department without him?"

"Hours, perhaps even days." Waver nodded in agreement with his main bodyguard, which was proven by the fact that a few dozen Enforcers and mercenaries were trying to break through the defences on the Northern and Eastern hallways, which Fujimaru hadn't gotten to yet, but hadn't made any progress whatsoever.

It wasn't that the Enforcers were untalented, certainly not. From what Waver could see, they were doing everything right, using all the proper Counter Spells and Curses and Runes, and they would be sure to break through eventually.

They just took much longer than Fujimaru and had to put in far more effort as well.

Bazett had been entirely correct with her remark. Fujimaru was indeed a total game-changer, and if he'd been anyone else, he would likely have already been Sealed by Policies by now.

Knock on wood.

"I hope everyone is doing alright." Grey continued. "I mean, mister Fujimaru is probably okay, but what about mister Gideon and miss Rit? Or mister Sisigou?"

"Don't worry about them." Bazett was quick to reassure her, placing a comforting hand on Grey's shoulder. "They are all professionals, and extremely talented. There is no way any of them are going to get hurt in something like this, especially with Lady Barthomeloi and Fujimaru doing all of the heavy lifting."

"R-Right." Grey nodded, breathing a small sigh of relief. "So we don't have to go after them?"

"Certainly not. We would just make their work more difficult, and besides, we have to protect Lord El-Melloi and Lady Archibald, remember?"

"Ah, yes." Grey nodded rapidly, looking first at Waver, who smiled back at her, and then at Reines, who had secluded herself from the group for a moment to communicate with the other Archibald-elders.

At the moment, the little lady was talking into a handheld mirror, which displayed the faces of the other elders, allowing them to talk to each other in real time. Using a mirror to display images was one of the simplest Magecraft-techniques for talking over a distance, but it worked perfectly well for the situation.

The conversation itself appeared to be going much less perfect however. Reines had started out with a large smile and an excited blush on her face, thrilled to bring the news that the Archibald were on the verge of reclaiming their department, but as the meeting continued, her smile got progressively smaller, until it had disappeared completely, and the blush had turned from one of excitement into one of agitation and anger.

At the end, Reines seemed two seconds away from smashing the mirror outright, and though she settled for violently dispelling the Enchantment on it instead, breaking up the meeting, her mood did not improve when the other elders were out of her sight.

The little lady then marched right back to the rest of the group, and without hesitating for a moment, she placed herself in front of Waver, drew herself to her full length, which wasn't that considerable, and said her piece.

"You will become the lord of Mineralogy as well."

"I see… WAIT! WHAT?!" Waver nodded once in tired acceptance, before her words really registered in his brain. Then his eyes boggled out of their sockets, and he had to consciously fight his urge to step back as Reines threw a massive curveball at him, yet again placing a massive responsibility squarely on his shoulders without as much as a single warning in advance. "I thought someone else was going to-"

"You thought wrongly, my beloved big brother." Reines interrupted him, giving him a beaming smile that did nothing to hide the immense anger lurking underneath. "It turns out the proud and ever-wise elders of the Archibald cannot be relied upon. It didn't even take five minutes after I brought them the good news for them to start fighting each other over who would be in charge, going as far as to completely ignore my attempts at peace-making. I do not want them in charge of anything, so I decided I pick someone who I can in fact rely on to become the lord of Mineralogy."

"They fought each other?" Grey asked timidly, giving Reines a worried look, and Waver was grateful for his apprentice's interruption, as it gave him some time to think. "Why?"

"Because they all want as big a piece of the pie as they can get of course." Reines sighed dramatically, her anger rapidly ebbing away, and she reached out to pull Grey into a hug yet again. "I thought they'd be happy, and willing to work together to ensure we will once more gain a strong hold over our department so that we will never lose it again, yet all they did once I brought them the news was grab their knives to carve out a piece of the Department for themselves."

"B-But being divided is bad." Grey mumbled.

"It is." Reines groused, pulling away from Grey again to dramatically hold her hand against her head, embodying the very picture of despair. "But do they care? No! They are greedy! Covetous! If I give anything to them, they'll pick it apart! So I told them to stuff it. Waver will take care of Mineralogy as well."

"I haven't even agreed to that yet!" Waver protested, though he realised his protests were likely futile, considering who he was talking to. "That will be a lot of extra work for me. You cannot realistically expect I'll be able to manage Mineralogy on top of my other responsibilities."

"Then get yourself some competent underlings." Reines huffed, as if that was obvious. "It shouldn't be a problem anymore to find people who want to work for you once it becomes known you are the head of two departments. The Clocktower will have to take you seriously after that."

"Perhaps." Waver allowed, realising she was likely right about that at least. Still, he couldn't just give in. "My talent as a Magus remains as low as ever though. Are you really sure you want someone like me to-"

"Yup." Reines nodded without hesitation, and in the face of such immense certainty, Waver had nothing to say in response. "I have full faith in you."

And if her words weren't bad enough, she followed them up by giving him the most honest, trusting smile he'd ever seen her give. And to further add to that, Grey also gave him a pleading look, silently begging him to help Reines out.

"…Very well." He groused after a few moments, unable to withstand the combined pleading and thus making peace with the fact that he would be taking over Mineralogy as well, ignoring how Reines hopped once in joy and Grey gave him a grateful look. "I'll do it."

"You're the best, big brother!" Reines squealed in joy.

"Don't expect too much out of me though." Waver warned her, but his warning fell on deaf ears.

"Will the other elders not be upset about this?" Grey asked, worry clear in her voice.

"Probably." Reines nodded. "They'll be very cross with me for a long, long while. I mean, most of them are old enough to remember the days when Mineralogy was originally ours. The fact that I dangled its reclamation in front of their noses and then took it away again will not make me popular."

"T-They won't hurt you, will they?" Grey asked.

"They might." Reines shrugged, sounding extremely laconic about it. "Can't say I look forward to getting killed though. Could I stay with you for a while, Grey?"

"I-In my room? Eh, sure, if you think that is safer for you."

"You're the best! I'll be sure to repay you for this!"

"Y-You don't need to repay me."

"Of course I do! You know what, I'll take you shopping once this matter has blown over a bit and the other elders aren't as mad at me anymore. How does that sound?"

Looking at the byplay between the girls, Waver considered intervening, but since Grey didn't look like she needed his help and getting involved would inevitably mean Reines would make fun of him in some way again, he held himself back.

"Lord El-Melloi, a word please."

The voice of Lady Montmorency cut straight through all the surrounding chatter and flawlessly made its way into Waver's ear, and the lord promptly turned around to walk towards the elderly woman.

Perhaps having heard Lady Montmorency's call as well, his students were quick to follow him, and before long, they stood before the elderly lady.

"Lady Montmorency." Waver greeted her politely on behalf of everyone in his group. "How may I help you?"

"Do you always take an entourage with you everywhere you go, Lord El-Melloi?" The elderly woman huffed, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes as she looked at his followers.

"Only when things become dangerous." He replied dryly. "So basically always, yes."

"Ha! Good answer." She laughed, before shaking her head once to regain her focus, the smile disappearing instantly and making place for a grim look. "Alas, I sound happy, but I am not. There's a matter you should know about."

"Oh?" Waver cocked his head to the side, a wry smile coming to his face unbidden as it was once more proven that nothing could ever be easy for him. "Bad news?"

"Maybe. What kind of news it is depends on your point of view." Lady Montmorency shrugged, before turning around and waving at someone outside of Waver's view. "Bring her here!"

Within a few seconds, two Enforcers came up to the group, and between them, they carried…

"Millicent?!" Reines cried, her mouth falling open for a moment. "You were here?! You weren't in the meeting just now because you were here?!"

"Obviously." Lady Montmorency said dryly. "Caught red-handed at the scene of a crime and confirmed to have been part of the Meluastea's operations."

"She…" Reines could barely get a word out after hearing that. "She was where…?"

"She made herself guilty of treason, if only to a little extent."

"A little treason remains treason, and you know it." Waver frowned at Lady Montmorency, who nodded once in agreement. "So, what does this mean?"

"In what way?"

"Does this ruin our chances of getting the Department of Mineralogy back?" Waver clarified, noticing from the corner of his eye that Reines stiffened in shock.

"In a way." The elderly woman nodded, before cutting him off when he wanted to reply. "But in another way, it doesn't."

"You're going to have to explain that one."

"Of course. To begin with, I know that the Department of Mineralogy, if returned to the Archibald, will likely come under the control of the elders of the Archibald-family." Lady Montmorency surmised.

"Indeed." Waver said quickly, cutting off both Reines and Grey, who looked like they were about to correct the woman. "I would keep being the head of Modern Magical Theories myself, but Mineralogy would go to the real Archibald."

"That is no longer acceptable." Lady Montmorency said in no uncertain terms, gesturing towards Millicent. "The elders of the Archibald-family can clearly not be trusted to remain loyal to the Magus Association, and thus cannot be trusted with Mineralogy."

Ah, Waver was starting to get an idea where she was going with this.

"You want me to become the head of Mineralogy as well?" He asked, just to verify, and he was rewarded with a beaming smile from the conniving lady. "And that is an order?"

"It is." She nodded. "You shall become the head, or Mineralogy will be given to another family."

"Well, if you put it that way." Waver sighed theatrically, before he nodded. "Very well. I accept this proposition."

"Marvellous!"

"This was always your plan!" Reines suddenly cried, pointing an accusing finger at Lady Montmorency, her eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and realisation. "You always wanted Waver to become the head of Mineralogy!"

"Yes." Lady Montmorency didn't even bother denying it, merely nodding her head with a smile.

"And if Millicent hadn't been here? Would you have fabricated something else?"

"Who knows?" The elderly woman shrugged, her smile turning mysterious.

"Ugh, Policies." Reines groused, but she didn't make any more of a fuss about it.

Partially because she was too afraid of Policies and especially Lady Montmorency to make much of a fuss, but also because making Waver the head of Mineralogy had been her own plan too, if only since very recently.

Basically, Reines had lost nothing here.

"Does this mean the other elders cannot blame you for making Sir the head of Mineralogy anymore?" Grey asked once the group had walked away again. "Now that it is Lady Montmorency's fault?"

"Huh? Oh, well, yeah. I suppose so." Reines nodded, clearly not having thought about that yet. "Now that it is an order from higher hand, they cannot blame me for anything."

"So you don't need to stay in my room anymore?"

"Ah, let's not be so hasty! I could still be in danger, you know. If they blame me for Millicent's actions."

"Oh. Then you are welcome for as long as you want."

"You're the best!"

Waver sighed after hearing the exchange. Clearly, he needed to teach his apprentice some scepticism and some healthy mistrust of other people soon. Reines was having much too easy a time pushing her around.

Then again, it wasn't like she didn't push him around just as easily, so in the end, maybe Grey had picked that up from him in the first place.

---

Despite his ever-growing distaste for the Meluastea-family, Shirou had to admit they really knew how to build themselves a base.

They might be immoral, cruel, arrogant, uncaring of any life that wasn't theirs, corrupt, morally bankrupt, and utterly indifferent towards any law, magical and mundane, but one thing they did have going for them was that they had good taste.

The mosaic patterns laid into the floors of the Department of Archaeology were very stylish and extraordinarily well-made, and the tapestries on the walls were beautiful and always placed at just the right positions. Ornate patterns had been carved into the wood of most doors, and countless pieces of tasteful art had been placed at regular intervals throughout the entire Department.

If only the Meluastea had become interior decorators instead of immoral Magi, the world might have been a better place.

"I agree." Lady Barthomeloi suddenly remarked, and Shirou realised he'd said that last bit out loud. "I have to admit the scenery is quite impressive. Whoever did this could have been ensured work forever if they hadn't sold their soul to crime and treason."

Well, it was good to hear she agreed.

"Despite the beauty of the place however, we still need to do what is necessary. Even if that means destroying that which is beautiful." Lady Barthomeloi continued, and this time it was Shirou who agreed. "Even this door, impressively-decorated as it is, is nothing but an object standing in our way."

The door she referred to was indeed very impressive. It had a bronze colour, though Shirou could see that it was actually an alloy of many different metals, most of them Enchanted. It was circle-shaped, about two metres in diameter, with hinges on one side to allow it to swing open.

Just like Lady Barthomeloi said, it was impressively decorated too, with Runes, Hieroglyphs, Sumerian letters, Greek letters, and many more unknown scripts having been carved into its surface.

That the scripts were unknown did not stop Shirou from being able to read them just fine however. He had no idea how that was possible, since he was quite sure he'd never learned Greek or Egyptian, let alone any of those other languages, but somehow, he could. He didn't spend too much time thinking on it though, and he was quick to accredit it to yet another mysterious ability that he'd gotten from Mjolnir recently.

For now, it was enough that he could read the letters, even though they didn't really tell him anything. They were just random words like 'wall', 'gate', 'spike', and 'spear' thrown together haphazardly to form a Magical Defence that, while powerful, was also horribly inefficient.

Breaking this door down would be no problem at all. It might have been the strongest point defence Shirou had ever encountered, strong enough that he by himself would need quite some time to break through, but it was nothing Mjolnir couldn't easily deal with.

Shirou would smash that door with his hammer, and then he and Lady Barthomeloi would continue on their way through the tunnel that the door had been blocking so far.

A few minutes earlier, the two of them had just finished their work in the Western hall, after which they'd left a team of Enforcers to deal with the rest.

They had found quite a bit in that hall and its surroundings, mainly stolen objects, illegal trade-goods, and imprisoned blackmail-victims such as the Kawakami-siblings, but nothing that could be considered really bad.

No Dead Apostles, no Demons, no torture, not even any dissections. Whatever dark things the Meluastea got up to, they didn't do it in the Western hall.

Lady Barthomeloi had been all for returning to the Southern hall so they could storm the Northern hall from there, but Shirou had stopped her before she could run off again.

He had taken another look at the underground complex he'd sensed earlier, buried deep underground below the Department of Archaeology, and he'd discovered a hidden tunnel that led from the Western hall to said complex.

The underground complex itself consisted of many different rooms and chambers, very reminiscent of the nest of Magus-criminals Shirou had helped deal with in Germany only the day before, but bigger, much bigger. For some reason, Shirou couldn't very well see what was happening in that complex, as something was obfuscating his sight, but from his advantageous position, he could still sense that there were a lot of dark things down there.

Lady Barthomeloi had been very interested to hear that, and she had immediately ordered him to show her the entrance of the tunnel so they could go down there at once.

The entrance had been easy to find, and the two of them entered the tunnel soon after following it for a while, before they'd ended up at the bronze door that had been barring their way for a few minutes now.

"It is impossible that the Meluastea created this door by themselves." Lady Barthomeloi noted, carefully studying the inscriptions on it. "It is ancient, much older than the Magus Association even."

"It's 2423 years old." Shirou said, having Traced the door once it came into his sight. "Persian. King Darius the Second had his Court Mages create it to protect the treasures of Babylon. It was found by Gunter Meluastea, 149 years ago, who took it to London and installed it here, to protect the underground complex that lies beyond."

"I will take your word for it." Lady Barthomeloi nodded, not turning around or otherwise giving a sign of being surprised at Shirou's extensive knowledge. "If it is that old, even I will find getting past it troublesome. Will your method of breaking Bounded Fields work?"

"No. It is not a Bounded Field. It isn't even remotely similar." Shirou replied, having already considered and rejected that possibility, and he held out his hand in preparation of summoning Mjolnir. "I fear brute force is our only option. Please stand behind me, Lady Barthomeloi. I'll deal with this."

"…"

It became silent, deadly silent, and Shirou realised almost immediately that he had made a mistake.

"…Mister Fujimaru." Lady Barthomeloi's voice had gone cold as ice, and she turned around with a flourish, giving him a glare that could have frozen over entire oceans. "Do you think I cannot break through this door myself?"

"I-"

"It is undeniable that you have been invaluable during the purge so far. Your technique for breaking down Bounded Fields is immensely impressive, and I have never seen its equal. You are mistaken however if you believe that technique elevates you above me in other aspects."

"Well-"

"I have been fighting and destroying the evils of this world for far longer than you have. I have knowledge of crafts and secrets you can only dream of. I have killed enemies that you could do nothing against but run away. I assure you, mister Fujimaru, my capacity for brute force far surpasses yours."

"…If you say so." Shirou nodded after a moment, holding his hands to the side to show he was backing down. "Please, don't let me keep you from it, oh great lady of destruction."

Alright, he was being a little disrespectful, but that was because he was annoyed. She didn't even know him, yet she presumed she was perfectly aware what he was and wasn't capable of, what enemies he had and hadn't fought, and how long he had been fighting for.

But fine, if she really wanted to be the one to break down that door, he wasn't going to stop her.

She might find it considerably more difficult than she expected though.

"Then stand back and watch while I clear the way for us." Lady Barthomeloi told him, proudly turning her nose up, before turning around to face the door again. Then she lifted a hand and began to cast her spell.

Immediately, it became obvious this was shaping up to be a spell the likes of which Shirou had never seen before.

Runes and other marks appeared around her, pulsating with power. A massive Magic Circle formed before her outstretched hand, combining numerous different Crafts into one shape. She began muttering Arias and Incantations at high speed, putting together multiple ten-line Chants.

Immense amounts of Magical Energy filled the air, more than Rin and Sakura could produce together in a month, and all of it was concentrated into the Spell that Lady Barthomeloi was preparing to fire at the door. The air seemed to become thick with Might, and if Magical Energy had been tangible, it would have become difficult to breathe.

As she Chanted, the spell became more and more complex, layers upon layers forming on top of each other as the attack was honed to perfection, to a point where it had been refined so much that normal Magi would have frothed at the mouth at the mere sight of it.

It was incredible. It was mind-boggling. It was terrifying. It was proof that Lorelei Barthomeloi more than deserved her moniker of the Greatest Mage of the Modern Times.

…It was also completely insufficient to break through that door.

Shirou could see that immediately. The door's Age and Mystery were far too great for Lady Barthomeloi to overcome with a single spell, no matter how powerful she made it. Even if she was the Greatest Mage of the Modern Age, the Court Mages of Darius the Second had been greater still.

If Lady Barthomeloi really wanted to break through the door, she would have been better off slowly whittling down at its defences, shaving off layer by layer, instead of trying to use one gigantic attack, which was exactly the kind of thing the door had been created to defend against.

He kept quiet though. She had already indicated that she didn't appreciate his input, so he would let her do her thing and deal with the fallout as it came.

He didn't have to wait long to see the fireworks, as Lady Barthomeloi finished her preparations a moment later, and then fired the spell.

It was a white-hot beam of pure, undistilled destruction, an attack that would have punched a massive hole straight through Shirou's chest, that could have seriously inconvenienced a Servant without Magic Resistance, and that could have smashed through every defence created in the Modern Age in its way.

It was an attack that was worthy of being called Lorelei Barthomeloi's Noble Phantasm.

It failed.

The door, created in the Age of the Gods, would not be destroyed so easily. Its Mysteries rose to its defence when the beam neared, and those Mysteries won. Clearly and decisively.

The beam of destruction was promptly neutralised, the concentrated Magical Energy reduced to background noise in an instant, and the door, which was completely undamaged, retaliated by sending a wave of power right back at its attacker.

It wasn't a lethal wave, the door's offensive power was greatly inferior to its defensive power, but it was enough to send Lady Barthomeloi flying backwards, straight into Shirou, with enough force to topple him over and send him rolling over the ground along with her.

When they both came to a halt, almost twenty metres away from where they'd started, the situation had turned almost like an anime, as one of them had ended up on top of the other.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been though. In the worst possible situation, Lady Barthomeloi would have ended up on her back and he would have face planted into her cleavage. That didn't happen, mercifully. Instead, Shirou was the one on his back and Lady Barthomeloi was on top of him, with her forehead at the height of his chin, and their bodies roughly aligned. Furthermore, his hands were alongside his body and not at places they had no business being at.

When it came to anime-collisions, this really was the best possible outcome, and Shirou thanked his luck with all his heart for being so gentle on him.

With his thanks properly given, he couldn't resist making a snide remark.

"The door doesn't look very broken down." He said as kindly as he could, smiling good-naturedly at the brunette, who lifted her head to look at him. "Maybe you should recite your accomplishments again, I don't think it heard you properly."

"Enough of your cheek!" She barked, smashing her fist down on his chest with enough force that a normal person would have gasped for air, though it did nothing to Shirou.

"I'm sorry." He apologised, only just holding back a chuckle of amusement.

His enjoyment must have been evident in his expression however, for Lady Barthomeloi sneered at him, before she rolled off of him and smoothly flipped herself back on her feet, standing just beside his head.

Which gave Shirou a perfect, unobstructed view up her skirt.

The sight struck him completely silent, and he could only stare, slowly following the length of her legs with his eyes, from the muscled calves to the wonderfully shaped thighs, and higher still.

It was at this point he almost choked on his own breath.

Shirou had seen a girl's underwear before. Ayako and Sakura weren't exactly shy about flashing him during their role-play activities after all, and even after coming to London, he had seen miss Ortensia's panties when she'd done her cheerleader routine.

But where Ayako and Sakura wore quite normal underwear, and miss Ortensia had stuck with very conservative, white panties that covered everything that was even remotely indecent, the Vice-Director, for some nebulous reason, had elected to wear something a lot more… racy.

He didn't claim to be an expert on women's underwear, certainly not, but Shirou was quite sure that the pair Lady Barthomeloi was wearing were not the standard amongst most women.

It covered the important bits, yes, but only just, leaving a lot of her bottom uncovered, once more confirming that she had a fantastic butt. Furthermore, if Shirou really strained his eyes, he could almost see a hint of a faint outline of what lay beneath the piece of cloth.

The fact that it was black and lacy only finished the picture at that point.

A raging mixture of emotions exploded in Shirou's breast at the sight, and the only reason his face retained its original colour was because his embarrassment was pumping blood towards his face as quickly as his terror was pumping it away again.

Then Lady Barthomeloi shifted on her feet a bit, and the muscles in her legs and butt contracted and relaxed in extremely appealing manners, which led to Shirou's face slowly becoming red as embarrassment began prevailing over terror-

"Mister Fujimaru, are you planning to remain on the ground all day?"

Lady Barthomeloi's sharp voice shocked Shirou out of his… 'contemplations', and when she stepped away from him to look down at him with clear disapproval, his mental faculties returned in full.

"My apologies." He said quickly, giving her a sheepish smile. "I was preoccupied."

"Be preoccupied while standing on your feet." She ordered, holding out her hand to help him up. "I will not have you act so shamefully as to remain prone on the ground as if you have been defeated."

Shirou didn't think lying on the ground was all that shameful, but he accepted her hand nevertheless, letting himself be pulled back on his feet by her.

Of course, touching her right after she'd inadvertently shown him her goods was not the best of ideas, and it was only with herculean effort that he managed to push his blush back down after feeling her surprisingly soft hand.

But even if the blush was down for now, he shouldn't tempt fate, so he rapidly switched gears and focused on the bronze door blocking their way again, violently shoving all memories of black, lacy panties out of his mind.

"Now that you have finished your attempt, can I make mine now?" He asked Lady Barthomeloi, very consciously not looking at her to prevent another round of blushing.

"If you think you will have more success than me." She replied, tersely giving him permission, and he detected in her voice both the desire that he would fail and the hope that he would succeed, contradictory as it was.

"This door is ancient, made by Mages from the Age of the Gods, with rituals and spells we can barely imagine anymore now." He noted, wanting to mention just how much effort the Court Mages had put into making that thing, hoping the information might put her into a better mood again. "If I had to break the thing down with just my bare hands and my spells, I would need at least half-an-hour. Fifteen minutes if the two of us work together."

"But you have another way in mind?" It was a question, but it was also clear Lady Barthomeloi fully expected the answer to be a positive one.

"I do. I have something for cases like this." Shirou nodded, again holding out his hand to the side to summon Mjolnir, the hammer appearing in a shower of bright sparks as it couldn't resist showing off again.

"A Mystic Code?" Lady Barthomeloi asked, and Shirou could almost hear how she lifted an eyebrow. "I can feel its power, but… You really have such confidence in it?"

"It is older than that door." Shirou revealed, and there was a rustle as Lady Barthomeloi stiffened in surprise. "Alright, here we go."

The redhead had the fullest confidence in his weapon. That door was powerful, yes, but ultimately made by human hands, from Earthly materials. Mjolnir was a weapon of Space-Gods, made from materials that didn't exist in this universe altogether, older than humanity itself.

At the risk of sounding arrogant or boastful, there was no way that Mjolnir was going to fail here. It was simply vastly superior.

As such, Shirou saw no need to add any spells or other incantations, and just threw Mjolnir at the door.

It was a simple throw, like tossing a ball at a friend during a game of catch. There was no pompousness, no grand declarations, nothing. He just threw the hammer.

Compared to Lady Barthomeloi's earlier white-hot beam of pure destruction, it didn't seem like much. In fact, it was almost pathetic to see the oddly small weapon fly through the air at a leisurely speed.

Yet Mjolnir did what Lady Barthomeloi's spell could not. When it impacted the door, it crushed all the Magical Defences into bits and smashed the door right off its hinges, crumpling it around the point of impact like it was a sheet of paper.

The door might as well have been made out of plastic for all the trouble it gave Mjolnir.

With the door smashed down, Shirou called the hammer back to his hand, before he turned around to face his superior.

"How was that?" He grinned, feeling vindicated in his trust for his ever-reliable weapon.

"…" Lady Barthomeloi didn't react at first, staring at the door with twitching eyes, before she resolutely faced him, holding out her hand. "May I hold that hammer for a moment?"

"Eh, sure." Shirou replied with some hesitance, not because he thought she'd try to steal it, but because he was already quite sure what was going to happen. "Here you go."

And just like he expected, the moment he gave her the hammer, it dropped to the ground like a stone, and no matter how Lady Barthomeloi tried to lift it, it didn't budge an inch after that.

It wasn't for a lack of trying though. The woman's face turned red in exertion as she pulled on the handle, and Shirou could see how the muscles in her bare legs and arms tensed and rippled, which almost brought another blush to his face.

"This… This cannot be its weight." Lady Barthomeloi protested after a minute or so, having tried everything from Reinforcing her muscles to using Levitation Spells, and having seen it all fail. "That is not…"

"It isn't its weight." Shirou confirmed quickly, reaching down to pick up the hammer, showing that he could easily hold it, spin it around, and throw it from one hand to the other, all without strain. "It's an Enchantment. Really powerful stuff, it only lets me wield it."

"…I see." Lady Barthomeloi gave the weapon another long glance, undoubtedly making many hypotheses and conclusions in her head, before she lightly shook her head. "But interesting as your weapon is, let us not waste too much time on it. Can you tell me more about what awaits us in the underground complex?"

"Yes." He confirmed, again looking down through the earth at the complex. Now that the door had been thoroughly destroyed, and its Wards against Magical Observation-Techniques had been destroyed along with it, he could see a lot more of what was going on down there. "I think we can safely say we have found the place where the Meluastea put the stuff they didn't want on the surface."

"Dead Apostles?"

"Absolutely."

"Necromancy?"

"A lot of it, and very dark forms of it too."

"Demonology?"

"They went the full mile with it."

"Then we must waste no more time." Lady Barthomeloi said, tightening her hands into fists. "Let us destroy these criminals."

"Ah, before we do that, I have to send a message." Shirou quickly held up a hand to stop Lady Barthomeloi from rushing off, before Projecting a piece of paper and a pencil. "Let me just write this down real quick."

"Why do you need to send a message?" Lady Barthomeloi asked, her curious expression indicating she wanted to look over his shoulder but held herself back because it would be improper. "And to whom?"

"First, I need to send a message to miss Forvedge and miss Von Stahlen-Frobrecht. They asked me to look out for Marie Alva, and I smell Alva-family members ahead."

"Very well."

"I also need to send a message to Lady Montmorency to send as many medics as possible to our position. From what I can sense, we'll need them."

"Hm." Her reaction was less vocal this time, and her expression turned grim. "Let us make haste then."

"Almost done." Shirou nodded, finishing up his second message, before he folded paper planes out of both pieces of paper, added a few Runes to both, and sent them on their way. "Alright, they're on their way. We can go now."

And off the two of them went, right into the underground complex.

A few moments later, terrible violence was unleashed upon the Meluastea's lackies.

---

Lord Rodrick Alva was running for his life, praying with every fibre of his being that he would be able to make it back to his Workshop in time.

He would be safe in his Workshop. His Bounded Fields were robust, and his wife, eldest daughter, and five apprentices were waiting for him there. In his Workshop, they would be able to weather the storm.

It was the natural thing to do, retreating to the place where your power was greatest. Rodrick was a Magus after all, who did everything to survive, not a knight who valued honour and glory above all else and would step out onto the battlefield to face his opponents in a fair fight.

Magi didn't fight fair. That was the first rule every aspiring Magecraft-user was taught. It was the ground-rule of everyone who wanted to survive in the Moonlit World.

So why? Why had he foolishly joined the group of arrogant blowhards who had gathered at the Western entrance of the underground complex, thinking they would be able to hold back the imminent attack of Enforcers from their 'advantageous position'? By doing so, Rodrick hadn't behaved like a Magus, he'd behaved like a knight, and now he was paying the price for his utter foolishness.

He should have listened to his wife. Her advice could very well have prevented him from ending up in his current situation.

When the attack on the Department of Archaeology had begun, it had taken a while before the people in the underground complex had been made aware of it. They had little contact with the people above ground, and everyone who could have told them about the attack preferred to save their own skins, like proper Magi.

Once the people in the underground complex had realised however that Policies had finally decided to move to destroy the Meluastea and all who followed them, there had been a moment of panic amongst them. Not a long moment though, they were all professionals. Order had been restored quickly and they had gathered in one of the larger rooms for a general discussion.

Florance, Rodrick's lovely wife, had immediately advocated for a tactic of avoidance. She argued that they should activate every Bounded Field, trap, and fixed defence that they had, and that they should have the Homunculi do the fighting, while they all hid in their Workshops.

They were outnumbered, heavily, with no significant advantages in power, which meant that fighting the Enforcers directly could only end in defeat. They had to retreat to where they were strongest and then outlast the Enforcers until they had no choice but to open negotiations.

At first, everyone had agreed with Florance, Rodrick included. None of them had had any illusions about their fighting strength, and as said before, it was only natural for Magi to hide within their Workshops when danger appeared.

But then, they had received information that attackers were on their way towards the underground complex via the Western tunnel, and that those attackers were a mere two in number.

At that point, one of the other Magi, whose name was Gaston, had promptly abandoned his wife's sage advice and had called for them to capture these attackers to use them as hostages.

Whoever these two people were, they had overreached themselves, and they would pay the price for their arrogance, Gaston had said.

In the beginning, no one had felt much for his idea, but somehow, through manipulation, flattery, and sheer force of personality, Gaston had convinced several dozens of them, all men, to follow him to the exit of the Western tunnel, where they would defeat the two attackers.

Rodrick was somehow among these men, having been convinced when Gaston had stressed the fact that he, as the man and the father of the family, had a duty to protect his wife, daughter, and apprentices to the best of his ability. He couldn't cower in his Workshop when he had a responsibility to act like a man.

It was the kind of argument Rodrick would have laughed about in normal situations, childish and narrow minded as it was, but when it came from the mouth of Gaston, it suddenly made so much sense.

Rodrick hadn't questioned it for a moment, and he'd eagerly followed Gaston to the ambush site. Together, they would show the attackers that they wouldn't be so easily defeated.

Naturally, his wife and daughter had vehemently protested against his decision, trying to stop him from throwing his life away, but Rodrick had known at that moment that going with them to hide in his Workshop would mean he could never call himself a man again.

Looking back on it now, Rodrick realised he'd fallen victim to some kind of mind-altering Magecraft. What kind of Magecraft it was, he didn't know though. It couldn't be outright Hypnosis, as that didn't work on Magi, especially not so quickly, but there were other ways to influence someone's mind, and some of them worked on Magical and mundane people alike.

Gaston had probably used some kind of suggestive power to access the dark underlayer of Rodrick's personality, and then used it to twist Rodrick into eagerly following along with his will.

It was a rather annoying way to find out what Gaston had been researching during his time in the underground complex, but at least Rodrick now knew to watch out for that man.

Not that it mattered anymore. When the two attackers, one of them being Lorelei Barthomeloi herself, had smashed through their defences and then through them, Gaston had been the first to fall.

Rodrick wasn't entirely sure of it, but he thought he'd seen the Vice-Director target Gaston with impunity, her normally rather expressionless face contorted in rage as she reduced him to bloody chunks with extreme abhorrence.

He hadn't stuck around to confirm though. After the line had been broken and Gaston had been killed, Lady Barthomeloi and her redheaded companion had started rampaging through the complex, and Rodrick had fled with his tail between his legs.

He didn't feel bad about it in the slightest. With Gaston's influence broken, he was a Magus again, and he was going to wisely retreat to his Workshop, beg forgiveness from his wife and daughter for his dumb decisions, swear never to associate with strange, handsome, oddly persuasive men again in his life, and then try to sit out the storm.

In the end, he made it to his Workshop unscathed, something he thanked the Root with all his heart for.

"My dear Rodrick!" Florance cried when she saw his exhausted, sweat-drenched form, her lovely face expressing a mixture of delight and great concern.

"Father!" Jessica was equally distraught, immediately running up to him, her expression wrought with concern and worry for him.

"Sir, are you alright?" Alex Cieltyka, his most talented apprentice, didn't run up to him in concern but instead did something useful and brought him a towel. "What happened?"

"Lorelei Barthomeloi happened." Rodrick replied, wiping his forehead with the towel. "She walked all over us. Gaston is dead, and I don't hold out much hope for most of the others."

"Good riddance." Florance sniffed, a hint of disgust on her face at the mention of the man who had persuaded her husband to do something that could very well have gotten him killed. "Now that his bad influence is gone, are you ready to see reason, husband of mine?"

"I am." Rodrick nodded, accepting her rebuke without protest, for she was right. "No more foolhardy expeditions, we shall stay here."

"Is that going to help against Barthomeloi though?" Roxanne Cros, his second-best student, asked nervously. "I heard rumours about her, about what a monster she is…"

"She is extremely powerful, yes, but raw power won't avail her here." Florance said, placing a reassuring hand on Roxanne's shoulder. "With so many Workshops around, all of them well-defended, she will have no choice but to negotiate for our surrender, lest she wishes to spend many weeks, possibly months here, besieging us."

"Negotiating?" Jessica lifted an eyebrow in confusion. "What do we have to negotiate with?"

"Money, research, influence, evidence on other criminals, you name it." Rodrick answered, already making a list in his head of what they had to bargain with. "We might just get away with our lives and freedom, though don't think you'll be keeping much else. Depending on how many and what kind of crimes we have committed, they will extract a heavy price from us."

"We lost the gamble." Florance nodded with resignation. "The Alva-family will take a long time to recover from this, but we've been poor before."

"Then is it not better if we destroy as much evidence as possible?" Sandra Edellman, another one of his students, asked, her eyes sliding over to the wretch on the dissection table. "I don't think having a live Dead Apostle here will do us any favours."

"It won't." Florance nodded again, also looking at the creature that used to be her daughter. "I agree with Sandra, we need to destroy as much evidence as we can, starting with the creature."

"What a waste of a perfectly good specimen." Rodrick grumbled moodily, but he couldn't disagree. "Very well, kill it and burn it."

---

The Dead Apostle in question, formerly Marie Alva until her father Rodrick had turned her into a vampire, had heard every word her family spoke. How could she not? They were standing only a few metres away with nothing between them, and they didn't bother whispering. Even if she hadn't had the improved senses of a monster, there was no way she could have missed them discussing her imminent death.

She didn't react however, not even bothering to turn her head. She no longer had the will or the energy to respond to anything. They weren't going to listen to her anyway, they would just ignore her and do whatever they wanted to her, regardless of what she said. Marie's words might as well be the buzzing of a fly as far as they were concerned.

Countless hours of cruel vivisections had made it crystal clear to her that they didn't care one whit about a Dead Apostle's wishes, an experiment's wishes. Her begging and pleading had not made them move a single muscle to spare her some pain. Not even her parents had shown a shred of mercy to her.

Not that she was in any way surprised. She'd always known that her parents and her sister were horrible people who only cared about themselves. That was one of the reasons she'd largely distanced herself from them over the years.

They always ignored her, considering her a failed child, who lacked both the power of her older brother and the ruthlessness of her older sister. To them, she was just there, something they had to take care of, and throughout Marie's entire childhood, they'd barely even looked at her.

As soon as Marie was old enough to realise how ridiculous that was, she had petulantly started ignoring them in turn, and had instead built connections with new friends, two of whom were especially dear to her.

Fiore Forvedge and Rosaly von Stahlen-Frobrecht.

Marie had never expected to meet such amazing people, let alone get to know them, yet by an act of God or whatever else, she had stumbled into those two one day, befriended them in short order, and had spent several amazing years with them.

They had been a team, cooperating on everything. Whether it was their research, their jobs, or their free time, it was always the three of them together, come hell or high water.

Marie had finally felt accepted somewhere, and it wouldn't be remiss to say that she considered Fiore and Rosaly to be her real family. The Alva had just been relatives at that point, and Marie had barely associated with them anymore.

Perhaps that was why she had been so blindsided by her father's sudden hatred for her, prompting him to go as far as to inject her with Apostle blood in a fit of rage, changing her into an Apostle herself.

All she'd known since then was pain. Unending, absolute agony, that made her scream out for mercy and plead pathetically to anyone in sight for the shortest of respites.

Before long, she'd wished for death with her every breath.

And now her wish was about to be granted. Cros and Cieltyka were already walking towards her, their spells on their lips, about to kill her a second time, and this time forever.

Marie was fine with that though. At this point, there were only three possible paths open to her. The first path was that she would be killed by Cros and Cieltyka, the second path was that she would be killed by Enforcers instead, and the third was that she would remain strapped to the table and subjected to more vivisections.

The first and second options were pretty much the same, and both were far preferable to the third. Dying was only for a moment.

Marie Alva was ready to die. She was a Magus after all, even if she wasn't a great or even good one.

So she lied still, waiting patiently for the final blow that would end her accursed existence. There was no use in begging or fretting, or even asking them to make it quick, since that would only prompt them to do the opposite.

So Marie tried to detach herself. She closed her eyes and tried to ban all thoughts. Now that the end was nigh, there should be nothing left to bother her.

Or at least, that was what she wanted herself to believe.

Unbidden, two faces came to mind, appearing before her even though her eyes were tightly closed. They were the faces of Fiore and Rosaly, smiling brightly at her, with all the love and friendship she'd come to expect of them.

And so, Marie found that she did have regrets left.

She regretted that she couldn't see her friends one last time. She regretted not being able to have one last conversation, just to say goodbye. Most of all, she regretted that they weren't here with her at the moment of her death.

And once the first crack had been made in the dam, the flood of emotions soon followed.

She had lied! She wasn't fearless. She was terrified of dying, and it took all of her willpower to stay still and not fight against the chains that bound her, to make one last desperate attempt to escape.

She didn't want to die here, in the dark, depressing Workshop of her thrice-be-damned father! She wanted to live! She wanted to go back to her friends! She wanted things to go back to how they were before!

She didn't want to be killed by her father's apprentices. She didn't want to perish without Fiore and Rosaly at her side, without them knowing what had happened to her, thinking that she had run away and broken all contact with them.

Fear, panic, and desperation mixed together into pure terror, and Marie fought against her chains after all, trying with all her strength to break them.

She failed however, and as her killers neared, Marie cried uncontrollably.

Or at least, she would have, if she'd been capable of crying.

She wasn't though. No tears fell from her eyes. They didn't even get the slightest bit damp.

Even that final act of humanity had been taken from her.

She had truly become a monster, and now she would die like one.

"Semprera-"

"Revemtro-"

Cros began his Incantation, and Cieltyka did the same on Marie's other side, and Marie clenched her eyes shut, praying to every god she could think of to reach down and save her-

'CRASH'

Then a terribly loud sound reverberated through the Workshop, as if a battering ram had been slammed against the Bounded Fields.

Marie's eyes shot open, and she jerked her head to the side, just in time to see the wall of the Workshop literally explode with another deafening crash.

Two figures shot through the newly made opening, and before anyone inside could do more than blink in response, they unleashed spells that tore the inside of the Workshop to pieces, making short work of the defences and everything else that the Alva might have brought to bear against them.

Later, when thinking back on this moment, Marie would regret greatly that she hadn't taken the time to enjoy seeing her parents be mauled by invisible claws, how their faces contorted in agony, and how they screamed in pain. It was sweet, sweet payback, and she really should have revelled in it as much as she could.

Alas, at that moment, she had other things on her mind. Mainly surprise, since she really hadn't expected the Enforcers to arrive that quickly, but also relief over the fact she hadn't been killed yet, fear that the Enforcers were going to kill her anyway, since she was a Dead Apostle and all, and a great sense of urgency, seeing that Cros and Cieltyka were still standing on either side of her. They were distracted now, but they could remember at any moment the importance of killing the live Apostle in their Workshop before the intruders caught wind of it.

Indeed, once they realised what was going on, Cros and Cieltyka turned to her again and opened their mouth in preparation for another round of spells-

"MAAAAAARIIIIIEEEEEEE!"

-Before a wheelchair-bound brunette slammed into Cros at an insane speed, sending him flying head over heels into the air. The person in the wheelchair didn't get out unscathed either however, and toppled over, ending up sprawled gracelessly on the ground.

At the same time, Cieltyka was jumped by a redhead, who grabbed her hair and tossed her to the ground, where she began unleashing a flurry of clumsy punches at her.

"Fiore?" Marie muttered, unable to believe her eyes as she got a good look at the newcomers. "Rosaly?"

"Don't worry, Marie!" Rosaly cried, still wailing on Cieltyka with all her strength. "We'll get you out of here in no time! Just you wait!"

"You'll be out of here before you know it!" Fiore added her own cry, though the fact that she was lying prone on the ground, unable to go anywhere, made her a little less impressive than Rosaly.

It didn't matter though, because to Marie, both her friends were so incredibly cool right now.

"Rosaly!" Fiore then said, frowning at her red-headed friend. "That girl is already unconscious, you can stop beating her. Please help me up instead."

Just as Fiore said, Cieltyka had lost consciousness a while ago, and Rosaly was left beating a prone form. Cros had been knocked out when he'd landed face-first on the ground after Fiore had launched him into the air, so that meant both of her father's apprentices had been dealt with.

"Eh? Oh! Right." Rosaly lifted Cieltyka's head slightly, verifying she was indeed unconscious, before getting up from the ground and giving Cieltyka one last kick in the ribs. Then, uncaring of her bloodied hands, she righted Fiore's wheelchair and helped the brunette back into it, before both girls turned to Marie.

"Marie, I'm so glad we made it in time!" Rosaly cried, pushing Fiore closer, before she froze in shock.

"Yes, I don't want to think about what would have happened if-" Merely a second or so after Rosaly, Fiore saw it too.

They saw Marie for what she truly was, what she had become, and Marie was not surprised when Rosaly gasped in horrified shock and Fiore became deadly pale.

They hadn't made it in time. They were several months too late.

Marie was already a monster.

---

"H-H-H-How did you get in here?!" The large, black-haired Magus demanded, his voice shrill in panic and pain as he swung the stumps that had once been his arms. "T-The B-Bounded Fields-"

"Quiet!" Lady Barthomeloi ordered, and she kicked him in the face, instantly knocking him out.

"L-Lady Barthomeloi." The beautiful, platinum-blonde haired woman crawled over the ground, unable to stand up without her legs, looking at the Vice-Director with teary eyes. "P-Please, w-we never-"

The brunette didn't even say anything this time as she quieted the woman with a kick to the face too.

In the meantime, Shirou dealt with the four younger Magi, one of whom he noticed was the daughter of the people Lady Barthomeloi had just knocked unconscious. There had been two other young Magi a bit further in, standing next to the dissection table, but miss Forvedge and miss Von Stahlen-Frobrecht had already taken them down.

In the end, it had been an average Workshop with Magi of average talent inside. Clearing it had been easy.

The matter wasn't yet finished however, and the hard part came now.

Shirou had already spotted that the girl on the dissection table was Marie Alva, and he had also seen that she had been changed into a Dead Apostle, well over a month ago. It was almost certain that another Alva-family member was behind it –Shirou's bets were on the father– and that it had been done completely involuntarily on Marie's part.

The girl had rotten luck alright, and Shirou did feel for her very much, even more so since she was… very unusual for an Apostle.

Most of the time, people who were changed into Dead Apostles instantly lost their connection with their humanity. From the moment of their turning, they became inhuman monsters with inhuman morals and values. Basically, nothing was left of who they used to be.

Sometimes though, people who had been changed were able to retain some of their humanity. These people were able to resist the Curse of the Crimson Moon, and remained who they'd been before, only now no longer human.

Marie Alva clearly belonged to the latter group, and from her reaction to her friends, Shirou concluded she had retained quite a lot of her humanity indeed.

It wouldn't last though. Reality wasn't that kind when it came to Dead Apostles.

The Curse of the Crimson Moon was an extremely insidious one. Even if it didn't immediately take hold, it was always there, waiting until all of its prey's bonds with its humanity were severed, before striking and completing the transformation into a monster.

And of course, even before then, the Curse was an immense burden on a person's mind, constantly forcing them to desire blood in ever increasing quantities, until there was nothing on their mind except the desire to suck a human being completely and utterly dry.

So while Marie Alva's situation was extremely sad and Shirou did pity her greatly, the truth of the matter was that the wisest thing for him to do would be to kill her.

For any other Magus or even to most mundane people, this wouldn't have been a dilemma at all. If they'd known about the circumstances and were in Shirou's shoes, they would have struck the girl down immediately. For all intents and purposes, Marie Alva was already dead, and all that was left was a creature that bore her name and face yet was an unspeakable danger to everyone around it.

Killing her should have been a no-brainer even to Shirou, who had killed a Dead Apostle without hesitation before, but at that moment, at that place, he had to admit he felt very troubled at the prospect.

Because again, there was obviously a lot of Marie Alva left in that creature, perhaps even all of her, though with added bloodlust and inhuman features.

And frankly, killing her wasn't the only option he had right now.

A second option would be to leave her alive and under constant supervision. Her will was strong, stronger than most, and she might very well go the next few years without drinking blood at all, clinging on to who she had been before she had been turned.

It wouldn't solve the underlying issue of her having become a monster, but it might allow Shirou to push the date of her execution a few years down the line.

It would be like a patient with a terminal disease that would kill them in a few years, though in this case, the disease was an alien Curse, and the cause of death would be an Enforcer or the like, perhaps even Shirou himself. The point was, Marie Alva would have to be killed at some point, but it didn't have to be immediately.

Based on what he'd seen so far, Shirou was willing to give her a chance. As a Hero of Justice, it was his duty to assist and save people, even people in circumstances like those of Marie Alva. He would take full responsibility of course, and as soon as it seemed the Curse would get the better of her, he would end her, but it would be wrong not to give her a chance at all.

The problem would be to convince Lady Barthomeloi of his point of view, as he didn't think she would be nearly as well-willing as he was.

She wasn't the cold, heartless killer everyone thought she was, no, she was in fact kinder than Shirou ever could have anticipated, in her own, rather overwhelming way, but this was not a matter of kindness. This was a matter of rules, laws, and the common good.

The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

Shirou would have to bring his best and most convincing arguments to even just stop Lady Barthomeloi from killing the girl at once.

If only Marie Alva hadn't drunk any human blood yet, this would have been an easy fix. The Curse of the Crimson Moon was powerful, yes, but not all-powerful. It could be placed on a human, but for it to truly be anchored into one's essence, it needed human blood. If no human blood was ingested, the Curse couldn't take hold, and in that case, Shirou's Healing Power should be able to remove it.

This didn't work for the Dead, the mindless familiars of Dead Apostles, since they were, well, dead, but for freshly-turned Ghouls, who were still at least somewhat alive, it should work just fine.

However, Marie Alva had already gone past the Ghoul-phase and had become a full-fledged Dead Apostle, so the chances of her not having drunk any blood yet were nil.

This really was going to be very difficult.

"Move aside." Lady Barthomeloi, just like expected, showed no hesitation in marching over to the dissection table with full intention of killing the Dead Apostle.

"W-We cannot do that." Neither miss Forvedge nor miss Von Stahlen-Frobrecht seemed in any way intent on following her order however, and they placed themselves squarely between Lady Barthomeloi and their friend. "M-Marie has d-done nothing w-wrong!"

"She has become a Dead Apostle." Lady Barthomeloi's retort was as swift as it was sharp. "Move aside or I will move you myself."

"Fiore, Rosaly." The voice of the Apostle, of Marie Alva, was weak and scratchy, but it was still clear enough to be understandable, and she gave her friends a pleading look. "P-Please, go away."

"We cannot!" Miss Forvedge repeated, both to Marie and to Lady Barthomeloi, before she and miss Von Stahlen-Frobrecht drew themselves to their full lengths, a determination to protect that Shirou had only rarely seen in Magi radiating off them.

"Fine." Lady Barthomeloi wasn't impressed by their conviction though, and she raised a hand to move them aside-

"One moment!" Only for Shirou to step up, placing his own hand on the woman's wrist to push her arm down again. "Lady Barthomeloi, please, I beg of you to show mercy."

"I am showing mercy." She retorted, for some reason appearing oddly fine with him having a hand on her wrist. "I gave them a chance to step aside, and now that they have refused, I will push them aside. I will not harm them, nor will I pursue or condemn their illegal act of defending an abomination, since it was once their friend. Let me reiterate, I am showing extreme mercy, mister Fujimaru, as much as I can in light of the circumstances."

"…Yes." Shirou nodded after a moment, painfully aware of how right she was, how merciful she was already being by not killing miss Forvedge and miss Von Stahlen-Frobrecht on the spot for deliberately standing in her way. "But could you-"

"Mister Fujimaru." Lady Barthomeloi interrupted him strongly, giving him a fierce glare. "I do not want to hear your arguments."

"But if you could-"

"No." She was adamant, fiercely shaking her head. "I cannot."

"But if you could just listen to me?" Shirou pleaded.

"No."

"Why not? It's not like she's going to escape in the meantime. It will only take a minute for me to make my case."

"I do not give you a minute."

"Why?"

"Because you might convince me!" She suddenly snapped, and Shirou almost took a step back at how genuinely frustrated she sounded. "Dead Apostles must die. That is my family's creed. Of all creatures that currently exist, they are the most inhuman, the most dangerous. They must be destroyed. I will not have you confuse me with your honeyed words and pleas of mercy!"

"But-"

"Mister Fujimaru! Unless you have some secret Spell in your repertoire that will allow you to remove the Curse of the Crimson Moon from the former lady Alva, I do not want to hear anything else from you!" Lady Barthomeloi was actually getting angry now, and Shirou clenched his teeth in frustration.

"I do have a secret Spell to that effect." He admitted, to the obvious surprise of everyone present. "But it only works on people who haven't drunk any human blood yet. Drinking human blood will anchor the Curse and make it impossible to remove, even for me."

"You…" Her anger forgotten, Lady Barthomeloi stared at him with a dumbstruck expression. "You actually have a spell that can break the Crimson Moon's Curse?"

"C-Can you not try anyway?" Miss Von Stahlen-Frobrecht pleaded, daring to speak up now that Lady Barthomeloi was effectively silenced. "Or can you improve the Spell somehow? I-I am sure Marie hasn't drunk much blood yet."

"I have tried to make it better." Shirou grumbled, and he had, ever since getting that Spell from Mjolnir, but without much success. "With my current knowledge and skill, I cannot do it, nor does the amount of blood matter any. Even a single drop is too much."

The faint spark of hope that had appeared in the girls' eyes spluttered out again, while Lady Barthomeloi, who had recovered from the shock a bit, pursed her lips.

"…I haven't."

The soft voice was clearly audible in the silence that had fallen after Shirou's words, and all four turned towards the girl on the dissection table.

"You haven't… what?" Shirou asked tentatively.

"I haven't drunk any human blood." Marie Alva whispered, and Shirou felt first shock, then disbelief, and then immense relief when her words rang true.

"Fujimaru!" Lady Barthomeloi barked, jerking around to face him again. "Does she speak the truth?!"

"She does." Shirou nodded, not even trying to hide the excitement in his voice. "Quick, let me at her."

This time, miss Forvedge and miss Von Stahlen-Frobrecht didn't hesitate for a second to get out of the way, and Lady Barthomeloi also stood still, watching with a piercing gaze as Shirou stepped up to the Dead Apostle.

"Will it hurt?" She asked once he was in range, with a voice so fragile a slight breeze would have broken it.

"No." Shirou answered plainly, happy that he could say that with full confidence, and it really was a testament to how cruel Magecraft usually was that Marie seemed entirely taken aback by his assurance.

Then he got to work.

He placed a hand on Marie's forehead, and started channelling the Mysterious Power, making it express itself in the form of Healing Power. He started by just letting it flow into Marie's body, but when that wasn't enough, he started pushing it outwards, increasing the stream as much as he could.

The effects were very visible. Within seconds, Marie's entire body began glowing gold, and as Shirou pushed more and more power into her, the glow intensified more and more until no one except Shirou could stand to look at it. Still he pumped more power into her, all for the purpose of breaking the Crimson Moon's Curse.

He could see the Curse quite plainly on Marie now. It was like a black substance that clung tightly to her essence, transforming her into what she currently was, a Dead Apostle.

If Marie had drunk any human blood, the black substance would have completely fused with her, finalising the transformation and forever condemning her to a horrid fate. Even Shirou would not be able to help her at that point. After all, this was a Curse from the Moon itself, a god in its own right, and breaking it when it was completed would take another fully-fledged god, which Shirou wasn't yet.

Since Marie hadn't drunk any human blood however, the Curse had not been able to seep into her essence yet, instead merely lying on top of it, like a foul stain upon her soul.

The thing about stains however was that they could be washed away, and that was what Shirou's Healing Power now did. It washed and scraped the black substance off her soul, before utterly vaporising it into nothing.

The Curse of the Crimson Moon was broken. For the first time in history, a victim's humanity was successfully restored.

By the time the golden glow subsided, well over a minute later, during which Shirou had been channelling the Mysterious Power the entire time, Marie Alva was healed.

The fangs in her mouth were gone, her skin once more had a healthy tan, she no longer smelled like a graveyard, but like a normal Alva-family member, and her eyes, when she opened them again, had returned to their sea-blue colour.

Marie was fully human again.

After verifying this, Shirou took his hand off her forehead, and with quick, deft movements, broke the cuffs that bound her to the dissection table. Then he stepped back again, before looking at miss Forvedge and miss Von Stahlen-Frobrecht.

"I'm done." He told them shortly. "She's human again."

He kept it short, partially because he didn't want to keep them, as Marie needed her friends very much right now, and partially because he had used up a lot of energy there and couldn't spare the breath for longer sentences.

However short his sentences were though, they impacted the room like a bomb.

Lady Barthomeloi stared at him as if he'd just grown wings, miss Forvedge and miss Von Stahlen-Frobrecht's mouths fell open in shock, and Marie Alva burst into tears, crying uncontrollably when she realised Shirou had spoken the truth.

The two girls then rushed past him to embrace their friend, all three crying and laughing and screaming in grief and joy to some extent.

Shirou watched them with a smile, very happy himself that things had ended so well.

Then he turned around, and came face to face with Lady Barthomeloi, who had clearly gotten over her shock.

"How long have you been able to do… that?" She asked sharply.

"Not very long." He answered honestly. "I only had a breakthrough with this slightly before coming to the Clocktower."

A 'breakthrough'. Read: Mjolnir straight up told him how to do it when he'd asked.

"I see." She nodded pensively. "And this doesn't work on Apostles that have drunk blood?"

"Human blood." Shirou specified. "Animal blood doesn't do anything. Also, it doesn't work on the Dead, only on Ghouls or fully fledged Apostles."

"And if you do try to use this Spell on Apostles that have partaken in human blood?"

"They die."

"Very good." She nodded approvingly, with a flash of bloodlust in her eyes, and Shirou smiled uncomfortably in return. "Now, the most important question. Can this technique be taught to others?"

"No." Shirou said bluntly, since without the Mysterious Power it couldn't be done, and he had never met anyone else with said power. "And I don't mean I don't want to, I mean it is actually impossible for me to teach it to anyone."

"I suspected as much." Lady Barthomeloi nodded, the slightest hint of disappointment in her voice, before she continued. "Normally, I would Seal you for this."

"I am aware."

"I will not do so however, as it would prompt you to disappear from the Clocktower and never return, which would be an incredible waste of an immensely useful asset."

"I am… most grateful for your kind words, and also for not Sealing me." Shirou sweatdropped while giving the woman an unsure smile.

"As you should be. I will have to insist however that your visits to the Clocktower become regular and long-lasting, and that you will allow limited experimentation to be performed on you."

"Eh… What?"

"Nothing intrusive. Merely light scanning and sensing." She replied, as if it were no big deal at all. "You have my guarantee that you will experience no discomfort whatsoever during the procedures."

"…I will hold you to that."

"Naturally."

"If any of your researchers even just look at a knife, I will leave."

"Your concerns have been noted. Any who make you feel discomfort will be punished by me personally."

"And if it is you who makes me feel discomfort?"

"You may punish me yourself."

Lady Barthomeloi gave him a slight smile, and Shirou, who marvelled at how easily she'd agreed to his terms, gave a sheepish smile in return, rubbing the back of his head.

It wasn't ideal, having to allow 'limited experimentation', but it was a lot better than having a Sealing Designation be slapped upon him. He had honestly expected the latter when he'd healed Marie Alva in full view of the Vice-Director, but he'd gotten off rather easy apparently.

He would have to be careful about how much he was going to reveal during the experimentation sessions, but he was sure he could think of something. Also, this arrangement had some positive sides as well, most notably that having regular contact with Lady Barthomeloi would also ensure that he could better arrange Rin's sponsorship.

"We will discuss the precise terms of the experimentation later." Lady Barthomeloi then dismissed the matter for the moment. "We need to press on. Many more Workshops of this kind await us."

"Well, actually, now that we have pretty much cleared the underground complex, we have been through the worst of it." Shirou corrected her.

And Shirou was glad for it. The Workshops in this underground complex had been filled with horrors of all kinds, each seeming to vie with the others about who was the worst, to the point where Marie Alva's case was firmly in the middle of the pack in terms of cruelty and foulness.

Lady Montmorency had sent several healers to back them up, yet Shirou still had ended up doing most of the work himself, that was how many victims they had found and in how bad a state they had been in.

"That is good to hear." Lady Barthomeloi said, before looking upwards at the Northern hall. "But the Meluastea themselves still roam free. Not a single one has been captured so far."

"Oh, I know where they are." Shirou assured her, having sensed them a while ago, using the scent of the Meluastea who'd come to negotiate as a basis to find the rest. "They're in the Eastern hall. Shall we go there first?"

"…No, let them wallow in fear for a bit more." Lady Barthomeloi decided after a moment of thought. "We shall keep to our schedule. The Northern hall comes first."

"You're the boss." Shirou nodded, before looking at the girls, who had been talking animatedly for a while now.

"Excuse me?" He said, and the three of them immediately turned to him. "Could you please leave for the Southern hall now? We will be moving on soon, and we cannot guarantee your safety if you remain here."

"Of course." Miss Forvedge nodded quickly, before rolling over to him to take his hand in hers. "Thank you so very much for your help, mister Fujimaru. We can never thank you enough."

"It was my pleasure to help. Be careful on your way back."

"Of course." Miss Forvedge gave him a beautiful smile, and then she left again, the other two, who both also heartedly thanked him when they passed, in tow.

Then Shirou and Lady Barthomeloi moved on as well, to ruin and destroy the day of many more Magi.

The score so far; 294 for Lady Barthomeloi and 296 for Shirou.

---

While Shirou was taking apart the Department of Archaeology in London, evening had fallen in Fuyuki, and Sakura and Ayako were taking full advantage of the warm weather and clear sky to stroll through the forest and gaze at the stars together.

This was not just an outing of two girlfriends however. They had an actual purpose, a mission, and the focus of that mission was the third person who was walking with them now.

Ryuudou Issei, aspiring monk, practitioner of karate, top-student, and best friend of Emiya Shirou, had not known quite what to think when Matou and Mitsuzuri had appeared and had dragged him away from his family's temple to take a stroll through the forest with them.

Sure, he was friendly enough with them, but they were more Emiya-kun's friends than his. This had never changed, not even when Emiya-kun had started a relationship with the girls.

Yes, Issei knew about that. Emiya had never tried to hide it from him, and he in turn had never made a point of it. He was a monk, and a part of being a monk was to not judge the consensual acts of other people, including their romantic affairs. Emiya, Matou, and Mitsuzuri were old and wise enough to make such decisions for themselves, and Issei shouldn't poke his nose into their business, not in the least because Matou would definitely cut his nose off if he did try to.

Back to the matter at hand. Matou and Mitsuzuri had dragged him off into the forest and were now grilling him over Homurahara's tutor-rules, because Mitsuzuri wanted to become a tutor next year.

They had assumed, since he had expressed a desire to become president of the school council next year, that he would know about the school's rules on various matters, like tutoring. Fortunately for them, they were entirely correct.

"First of all." He said, adjusting his glasses, making sure to catch the light of the moon and have it reflect from them. "You are correct that I seek to become the student council president next year. From what I hear, the previous president passed his final exams and has left for a higher education. He has left a gap I can now fill."

"Won't there be others vying for the position as well?" Mitsuzuri asked, and he nodded at her in response.

"Of course there will be." He agreed, before crossing his arms. "But they won't be a problem."

"Confident, aren't we?" Mitsuzuri smirked. "I mean, you're probably right, I don't think any random student can measure up to you in work ethic and leadership abilities, but do keep in mind humility is important."

"Humility is a virtue, yes, but false humility is bad, to say nothing of its even worse brother, humble-bragging." Issei shrugged. "I tell the truth as it is. Based on the information I have gathered so far, I am the best person for the job."

"Well, you have my vote, Ryuudou-san." Matou smiled at him, and though the three of them all knew that the student council president was not chosen by votes, Issei nevertheless nodded at her in gratitude.

"You are also correct in assuming I have already familiarised myself with most of Homurahara's rules and practices." He continued, and Mitsuzuri perked up next to him. "Including its tutor-program."

"I'm all ears." The exuberant brunette gave him a very serious look, leaning towards him in anticipation.

Fortunately, Matou was quick to pull her away again though, giving her a light bonk on the head and a recriminating look.

"Don't pressure Ryuudou-san like that." She scolded her girlfriend. "It's hardly necessary."

"Indeed, I was going to tell you anyway." Issei nodded in agreement, before bringing his hand to his chin. "Hm, let me think. Tutoring… Well, the most important thing to keep in mind is that you can only tutor those who are in the same year as you or below. It doesn't matter how intelligent you are or how good your grades are, you can't tutor those in years above you."

"Seems logical." Mitsuzuri nodded.

"Furthermore, the limit of how many students you may have is placed at five."

"Again, logical enough." Mitsuzuri repeated herself. "Five is honestly a pretty big number already."

"Could it be because there are five weekdays?" Matou wondered, but neither Issei nor Mitsuzuri could answer that question.

"The third rule I can remember is that tutoring does not excuse you from having to join a club." Issei continued, lifting an eyebrow at the brunette. "Do you have a club in mind?"

"The archery club of course." Mitsuzuri answered like it was obvious, and perhaps it was, for Matou was nodding strongly in agreement with her girlfriend's words.

"Very good, Homurahara's archery club has an excellent reputation." Issei replied, vaguely remembering Emiya-kun had said something about joining that particular club as well. "Let us return to the matter of tutoring. If you wish to take on a student, both you and your prospective student will have to fill out several forms and hand them in to the school board. They will have to agree before you can continue. Any attempts to start without such approval will be punished."

"Eh? They punish you for helping others?"

"No, no. What I mean is, helping others is always allowed, but if you wish to set up a paid structure, as I presume you want, you need permission from the school."

"Oh, right. That makes sense, I suppose." Mitsuzuri muttered.

"Whether they make sense or not, those are the rules, Mitsuzuri-san."

"Noted! Is there a limit on where I can hold my lessons? Like, can I hold them in the school's library until closing time?"

"I don't see why not. The school building may be used until seven in the evening, after which everyone without a valid reason to be present must leave the premises."

"So any tutoring late at night will have to be at someone's home." Mitsuzuri pursed her lips in thought, her eyes losing focus as she began pondering.

"Thank you for the information, Ryuudou-kun." Matou then spoke up, her voice soft so as to not disturb Mitsuzuri's train of thought. "It would have taken us ages to figure it out ourselves."

"Probably." Issei nodded in agreement. "I know most of these things because Kuzuki-Sensei lives with us in the temple, and he was kind enough to let me read his introduction-papers. If I had to figure it out myself, I would still be working on it."

"Kuzuki-Sensei?" Matou blinked at the unfamiliar name. "Is he a teacher at Homurahara?"

"He will be." Issei replied. "He was hired only a few months ago, and he will start after the summer holidays are over. He was sent a lot of information about the school in preparation for the start of his job, and like I said, he was kind enough to let me read it too."

"I see." Matou nodded, before she looked at him with a playful grin. "Sounds like Kuzuki-Sensei has already found himself a favourite student then."

"A little favouritism has never hurt anyone." Issei stated without hesitation.

"Not the ones receiving it, no." Matou huffed, the grin still in place. "Best make sure he likes me as well then."

"That shouldn't be difficult. You have the kind of character he appreciates." Issei assured her, and Matou, after a surprised blink, smiled wider in return.

"Of course, that will have to wait." She then added, her expression suddenly becoming grumpy. "I still need to finish middle-school first."

"You are a year younger than the rest of us after all." Issei agreed, smiling slightly when Matou turned a pout his way. "I'm sure you will manage just fine without us."

"Of course I will. I just wish I didn't have to." She grumbled, and then muttered a sentence Issei couldn't hear well, something about 'wishing they would have been twins'.

"I wish you the best of luck in your last year at middle-school, Matou-san." Issei said after a moment of silence, smiling at the pouting girl, before that smile disappeared when she flinched slightly. "Matou-san? Is there something wrong?"

"Ah, no, nothing's wrong, it's just… I really do not like that name." She admitted, before smiling self-deprecatingly. "It's stupid, I know, since I am called it all the time at school and all, but… I just want to hear it as little as possible, so could you not call me that? I'm sorry for being troublesome."

"Not at all, I completely understand." Issei assured her, indeed understanding perfectly well she didn't want to share a name with Zouken anymore. As for addressing her politely, since they weren't close enough for him to use her given name, he had a solution for that. "Then allow me to skip ahead in time for a bit and call you Emiya-san, as long as we're not in a professional environment of course."

Matou froze in place for a moment, staring in bafflement at Issei, and then she smiled so widely it seemed her face was going to be split in two.

He would take it that she liked it then.

"Hey, nice one!" Mitsuzuri, who had suddenly returned to the conversation, complimented him, planting a friendly elbow in his side, wearing her own thousand-watt grin. "You really are as smart as Shirou says you are."

"Naturally." That went without saying. Issei wasn't the top-scorer at his school for nothing, though he had to admit Emiya-kun was still a step above him. That guy was just unreal, achieving top marks on everything with just a few minutes of studying, if he even bothered to study at all.

If only he wasn't such a delinquent, working on motorcycles and other machines, sleeping in class, and hanging out with Yakuza, he could easily become a school idol, though a male version of course.

Then again, Emiya would just consider it a bother, so perhaps it was for the best that most people tried to ignore him whenever they could.

"To get back on topic, that is all the information I have about tutoring at Homurahara." He then continued, before pointing back in the rough direction of the temple. "You could try to talk with Kuzuki-Sensei, to see if he can add to what I have told you, but other than that, there is little more I can do for you."

"That's alright! You've been a splendid help already." Mitsuzuri assured him. "As for Kuzuki-Sensei, who's that?"

…Right, she'd been sunken in thought when he had talked about the teacher in the temple.

So he explained it again for Mitsuzuri's sake, and as he did so, he failed to notice the purple-haired girl behind him suddenly turning her head from left to right, sniffing the air, and he also failed to notice how she tensed up, as if in preparation for a fight.

There was no way the brunette could miss her beloved girlfriend's sudden erratic behaviour however.

"Sakura?" She asked, blatantly interrupting Issei, who took it well enough and also turned towards the plum-haired girl. "Are you alright?"

"I smell something." Matou replied, her face twisting in distaste. "Something really foul."

"A dead animal?" Issei suggested. "It would hardly be unusual."

This was a forest after all, with actual living animals roaming about, and that meant dead animals could sometimes turn up. Most of the time, the monks cleaned up any cadavers, as they would soon stink to high hell if left alone, but it was entirely possible they had missed one.

"It is a rotting smell." Matou agreed, seeming to get a fix on the scent as she turned her head to one specific point in the forest. "And I really hope it's an animal."

"But you don't think so?" Mitsuzuri asked, though it was barely a question.

"No." The purple-haired girl replied, and then she walked off, into the direction of the smell.

Issei and Mitsuzuri shared a quick glance, and then Mitsuzuri shrugged, before following Matou, and Issei was quick to follow them as well.

Removing cadavers was part of his tasks as an aspiring monk, and if Matou was so kind as to point him to one, he wasn't going to ignore it.

And of course, if she was right and it was not just an animal, then he also needed to know as soon as possible.

They walked through the forest in single file for a few minutes, Matou in front, Mitsuzuri in the middle, and Issei closing the line. They walked adjacent to the border between city and forest, and away from the temple.

After another minute or so, Mitsuzuri perked up as well.

"Hey, I smell it too." She remarked, taking a deep breath, before her face twisted in distaste. "A corpse."

"Animal?" Issei asked again, hoping against hope that it would be that simple.

"No." Was the blunt reply.

Issei didn't ask how they could tell the difference. He knew well enough by now that most of his friends had unnatural talents, and he had decided not to make too much of a point out of it.

Except for Tohsaka, who was a vixen.

Anyway, it wasn't long before Issei started smelling the rotting scent as well, and though he couldn't tell whether it was animal or not, he decided to trust the girls and assume it was not.

Eventually, they arrived at a small clearing. It looked like your typical little clearing in the forest, with some mushrooms growing here and there, but it was obvious something had been buried in the middle of his particular clearing. The disturbed earth indicated that perfectly well.

Issei felt shivers go down his spine at the sight, as animals usually didn't bury their dead, but Matou walked ahead without fear and began digging into the freshly-upturned earth with her hands.

Only a few seconds later, she rose again, and turned to Issei and Mitsuzuri.

"We should call the police." She said in no uncertain terms, and while Mitsuzuri immediately fished her mobile out of her pocket, Issei walked a bit closer to the hole Matou had just dug.

Then he had to firmly press his hand against his mouth to prevent himself from throwing up.

There, in the middle of the clearing, about twenty centimetres deep into the ground, just uncovered by Matou, was a half-decomposed, rotting, human head.

---

And voila, here is yet another chapter. Hope you enjoyed it.

To start of this AN, I would like to give some explanation on the Bounded Fields in this fic.

First of all, I would like to say that the canon-Type Moon writers have made Bounded Fields into one of the most annoying topics there are. We are constantly told they are useful and amazing, but every time we encounter one, it's basically useless. Now, you could say that is because of Servants and all, but it's still very confusing and also makes writing about an attack on a base of Magi quite difficult.

So I went for my own interpretation. Bounded Fields are indeed very useful. They take a lot of effort to make, but once they've been completed, they are very difficult to overcome, as long as you're not cheating (like Servants, or Shirou).

Since Bounded Fields are the product of years and years of work (especially the Bounded Fields around a Department of the Clocktower, which might even be centuries), they are normally near-impossible to break with brute force. The most you can do it basically lay siege to it, constantly whittle it down, until you can finally snap through. This can take quite some time, depending on the number, power, and skill of the attackers.

As for what Bounded Fields do, some of them function like a wall (or force-field I suppose), while others do let attackers through but then sap them of strength, or make them sick, or do some other horrible thing.

My point here is that you shouldn't enter a hostile place when it has active Bounded Fields. That is very dangerous (unless you have Magic Resistance, in which case you're largely fine).

Now, back to the story.

The purge has really begun now, and the Meluastea are in deep trouble. Not only do they have a small army of Enforcers and mercenaries and Policy-personnel storming their base, but also Lorelei Barthomeloi and Shirou Emiya, who, to add insult to injury, have decided to make a game out of it.

Now, everyone who is even the least bit civilised will know where that game about taking down opponents came from. I even put in a hint to help you guys along.

Shirou is actually not even doing all that bad, and at the end of the chapter, he is even leading in score. Will he be able to keep that up? See it next time, in the next chapter.

Then we have Lysanne Saward and Millicent Archibald, who represent the 'white-collar' criminals in service of the Meluastea. They haven't done anything really evil, but mostly blackmailing and fencing stolen goods and the like. They were still arrested, but neither Shirou nor Lady Barthomeloi felt particularly compelled to maim them or anything.

Waver is rising up in the ranks, now that he also gets the Department of Mineralogy on his plate. Our boy never wanted such power, but he has it now. A true conqueror, the student of Alexander the Great. It won't be long now before the entire Clocktower belongs to him (that was a joke).

Then we get a scene where Lady Barthomeloi and Shirou actually have to take a few minutes to proceed. First, Lorelei tries to break the ancient door, but she fails, since it is a door from the Age of the Gods and all, well-preserved and quite powerful indeed. Not quite a Noble Phantasm, but that is only because it is not well-known.

Mjolnir easily deals with it, but only after Shirou gets an eyeful of a marvellous yet terrifying sight. I mean, everyone with two braincells to rub together would be terrified in such a situation. Nevertheless, it takes care of the obligatory fan-service, which I have been told is rather lacking in my story.

Then we get at Marie Alva, the poor Apostle-girl. I remember quite a lot of people being quite upset when she was introduced in chapter 29, and I hope I've been able to put your minds at ease now. She's fine, and she's back with her friends.

For Shirou's ability to revert the transformation as long as no human blood has been drunk, I stole that directly from the tv-series Supernatural. I thought it made sense, so I worked it in.

In the last scene, there is an Issei POV, who gives Ayako tips about tutoring and contemplates how odd his friends actually are, though he still greatly appreciates them of course, even Tohsaka, though he doesn't want to admit that.

Then they find a corpse, which is the start of their very own murder-mystery that will play out over the coming chapters.

Sorry, I have seen too much Poirot lately, and I need to do something with it.

Ted bows politely, before striding off the stage to prepare the next part of the play.