I watched the sleeping city beneath me from atop a skyscraper, my legs dangling over the edge, Gae Bolg proppeed over my shoulder. Groups of men and women in gang colors stalked the streets with their chests puffed out. A few lone cars slowly traversed the trash-littered roads as commuters returned home from late shifts. Light posts shed flickering lights as their poorly maintained electronics failed.

Taylor was asleep back at the house. She'd been exhausted when we were done training. She'd practically dragged herself home before collapsing into her bed.

She was working hard, giving it her all. It was producing rapid results. She could maintain her reinforcement almost effortlessly now. With the magic active, there were few capes in the city that would be able to seriously harm her. She was also stronger than the majority of them with only the brutes outclassing her. Still, I wasn't comfortable letting her out to fight yet.

She was making rapid progress with projection, but she was not Shirou Emiya. Taylor could project a spear, but the spear would always shatter upon blocking a strike or even just simply hitting its target. She could use them as ranged weapons or for single strikes just fine, but she wouldn't be able to use one in a prolonged fight. Projection magic was looking like a bust. I needed to think of something else.

The simplest solution was to just create a stockpile of rune-enhanced spears that Taylor could draw from whenever a weapon broke, but that carried its own problems. What if the weapon broke in the middle of a fight and she couldn't make it back to where she'd stored her spares? There were problems with that option too.

I sighed, letting Gae Bolg fade into motes of energy as I ran my hand through my hair.

Scathath wouldn't have had this problem. My old teacher would have rifled through her stockpile of powerful weapons and produced the perfect weapon. Failing that, she would have just made a new one. Scathath was amazing like that. Compared to her, I was a pretty lousy mentor. I couldn't even give my student a proper weapon.

I swung my legs back over the ledge, hopping down and sitting cross-legged on the ground. I waved my hand in front of me, and several weapons appeared on the ground before me. The ruby red spear that was Gae Bolg. A plain, sturdy sword. A sword whose blade glowed with a pearl-colored light. A long spear extending longer than Gae Bolg with small blades extending out from near the spear's tip. A shortspear only three-fourths as long as Gae Bolg with a gold color and long blade.

While I mainly used Gae Bolg due to its power and my own personal preference, I could call forth all of the weapons tied to my legend. But that was the problem. All of my weapons were tied to my legend. Were I still alive, I could give Taylor any of these, but I wasn't alive. I was dead; a Heroic Spirit. Each of these weapons was firmly fixed to my soul, bound by the legends that allowed them to accompany me to the Throne of Heroes.

I shook my head as I looked over my weapons. This was pointless. There was nothing I could do. In order for Taylor to even be able to use the weapon, let alone keep it for herself, it would need to have some part of its legend be rooted in transference. Much like the occurrence that allowed Achilles to give his shield to Astolfo. Achilles's shield was used by Patroclus, and Astolfo's legend allowed him to receive gifts. Without those two interactions, it would have been impossible for Astolfo to use a separate Heroic Spirit's noble phantasm. None of my legends included me bequeathing gifts onto others.

With a snap of my fingers, all of the weapons vanished. I stood up and dusted myself off. I'd need to think of something else. I'd never given anyone any of my weapons for extended periods of time. People had asked, but they'd never received.

I took a single step and stopped. Past events from my first life replayed in my head. I pursed my lips, summoning one of my weapons back. A golden shortspear gleamed in the light of the moon as I rolled it between my fingers.

It was worth a shot, right?

X

Taylor's muscles were on fire. Her joints felt like hinges that had gone unoiled for a decade. It hurt to move.

"Well done, master!" Lancer's cheery voice called down to her.

Taylor grunted, refusing to move from her position. She was lying flat on her back, arms out at her sides. She'd challenged Cu to a spar to prove to him she was ready to patrol. He hadn't even needed a weapon to beat her. The bastard wasn't even trying.

"Turn that scowl into a smile, master! You did much better than you think you did. Keep in mind, I beat both Fenja and Menja in one or two moves each. If that showing is anything to go by, you're almost ready to go out and face the evils of the world."

That caused Taylor's ears to perk up. It took a mighty effort, but Taylor was able to force herself into a sitting position. "What do I need to do to not be almost ready anymore?"

Cu sat down across from her, propping an elbow on his knee to rest his chin on his hand. "You need a weapon."

Taylor frowned. "But I can project spears. You said that…" She trailed off as Cu shook his head.

"I was basing my original prediction off of a Heroic Spirit I fought in the last war. He could project Noble Phantasms and regular weapons alike. You can make spears, but they fall apart too easily. They're only good for one hit then you have to make a new one. That works great for projectiles, but it's not so great for melee fights. Emiya was far better with projections than you are, and I'm starting to think that you're peaking. His proficiency was closely tied to his potential. Your potential lies in other areas."

Taylor was scowling again. She was trying not to, but she was failing. She'd been working on projection for over a month now. Was all of that time nothing but wasted effort?

"What are you saying, Lancer? Are we back to reinforcing a mundane spear now?"

"Maybe," Lancer said slowly, lips pursed. "I want to try something first, but I'm not sure if it's going to work, so don't get your hopes up, okay, master?"

"What do you want to try?"

Taylor blinked in surprise as Cu leapt to his feet, holding his hand down to help her up instead of answering her. Taylor took his hand and let him haul her to his feet.

Taylor watched, confused, as Lancer spun around and walked away from her. He turned around at the end of the warehouse and sat down on a wooden crate, lounging on it like it was some sort of throne.

"Say a limerick, master."

"What?" Taylor said, supremely confused. What was Lancer's goal here.

"A limerick. Say one. First thing that comes to your mind, just make it rhyme."

"Uh… My servant's a bastard in blue,

Who crushes nazis beneath his shoe.

He sits there so smug,

With his ugly mug.

Don't we have something better to do?"

Lancer chuckled. "Not bad, master. Not bad at all! Now, ask me for my spear. Say that I shouldn't refuse a poet's request."

"What?"

"Just do it, master. Please?"

With narrowed eyes and a skeptical look on her face, Taylor said, "Give me a spear, Lancer. You shouldn't refuse a poet's request."

Lancer smiled at her, wide, bright and conniving. "No!" he declared proudly.

A flash of gold was Taylor's only warning. Instinctively, Taylor summoned emerald-colored lines of magical energy across her body, enhancing her muscles and skin as a golden spear flew directly at her chest. It was moving too fast to dodge. If she tried to project a spear to block it, Taylor knew that her spear would shatter. She needed to try something else.

Taylor caught the spear just as the tip stabbed into her reinforced chest. Talyor cried out in pain as the weapon bypassed her protections, digging a half-centimeter into her flesh. The force of the spear pushed her back, her feet skidding across the ground as she desperately tried to arrest its momentum. Taylor's pained cry turned to a roar of determination as she pushed against the still flying spear with all of her might, doing everything she could to keep it from skewering her. Taylor felt her mana swell. The green lines on her body pulsed and glowed ever brighter as she fed more and more of her mana to her reinforcement.

Taylor had been skidding back at blistering speeds, propelled by the spear, but now she felt herself slowing down. Her shoes squeaked as her heel touched the far wall of the warehouse. She'd come to a stop. The golden spear clattered to the ground in front of her, its momentum completely lost. Taylor collapsed soon after it, panting, dripping sweat, a shallow cut just under her collar bone.

"Yes! I can't believe that actually worked!" Lancer yelled triumphantly from across the warehouse, arms held up in a victory pose.

Taylor snarled, pushing herself to her feet. "What the fuck, Lancer! Are you trying to kill me!"

"Psh, don't be so dramatic, master. You were perfectly safe." Lancer said, dismissively waving her concerns away as he walked over. He pulled down the sleeve covering his right arm, revealing a slew of bright red glowing runes pulsing on his flesh. "I had recall runes ready to pull the spear back the moment you were in any danger. I almost activated them when I saw you get cut, but I'm glad I didn't. I don't think this would have worked on the second try when you knew you'd be safe."

Taylor's hands balled into fists at her side. She was pissed. She wasn't sure if that was the adrenaline still coursing through her veins from her desperate attempt to keep from being skewered or legitimate rage, but she was trying to give Lancer the benefit of the doubt. He'd made it clear he was on her side. His actions were sometimes…weird, but he wouldn't have done this without a reason.

"You keep saying it worked. What worked, Lancer?"

Lancer smiled, wide and bright. He stomped on the golden spear on the ground, flipping it up into his hands. "Master, meet Cletiné. It's not Gae Bolg, but it is one of the more famous spears I used in life. It's got its own punch. And, since your servant is super intelligent and very capable, I was able to manipulate a specific piece of its legend to allow it to be used by you. Aren't I just the best servant, master?"

Taylor blinked, eyes flicking from Lancer to the spear. "Wait, what?"

Lancer bent down towards her, still grinning like a loon. "I just solved your weapon problem, master. Nothing we can find in this modern world will be able to match up to a Noble Phantasm once wielded by the son of the God of Light. You're welcome." Lancer extended his hands, holding the spear out towards her.

Taylor swallowed, her mouth suddenly feeling very dry. Hesitantly, she reached out, gently running her fingers over the haft of the spear. Much like Gae Bolg, the golden spear had etchings like vines snaking up and down its length. "It's beautiful." Taylor said, still in shock. Surely this couldn't actually be happening, right? There was no way a demigod was giving Taylor Hebert one of his weapons.

"That she is, master. Treat her right, and she will never fail you. Now enough with the suspense."

Taylor let out a surprised squeak, her muscles locking up as Lancer shoved the spear into her hands. Her fingers closed around the haft of the spear and Taylor gasped. Holding the spear felt right. Her mana flowed through her fingertips into the weapon and back into her hands seamlessly. It was nothing like the clumsy, forceful empowerment she'd been trying on mundane spears. No, this was…special.

Lancer clapped his hands, pulling Taylor from her dazed stupor. "Right! Now that that's done, we need to get to work. If you want to really use that thing to its full potential, you're going to need to get some magic tattoos like I have. I can help with drawing them, but you need to know what they all do and how to use them yourself. You can use them in tandem with the spear to call it back to your hand, remotely control its movements and more. First we need to…" Lancer continued to lecture her about everything he was going to do to help her.

All the while, Taylor's grip around the haft of Cletiné was that of iron. There was no shaking the immovable smile from Taylor's face. She couldn't remember a time when she'd felt this happy before.