In the face of uncertainty, doubts and fears are understandably put on edge. Coupled with pain and physical trauma, nerves fray from a mixture of panic and unease.
Kurata quickly jumped out of the driver's seat of his vehicle and gripped tightly over the handles of his Howa Type 20 Assault Rifle. Glancing from Kuribayashi to the unknown enemy, he let out a shuddering breath while Mari's complexion paled while hearing the sloshing noises in one of Kuribayashi's Type 2 combat boots.
Blood was seeping endlessly through the Kevlar lining, but it was clear to Mari that there had been no breach in the boot itself. Rather it sounded as if the foot within had shattered into a mix of bone fragments and flesh not unlike bullet-wound trauma to an exposed body part. It was by virtue of Kuribayashi's shoe alone that the general shape of a foot remained.
Subconsciously, Kurata aimed his rifle, but the concern in a soft yet reproachful voice quickly snapped Kurata out of it.
"Don't attack recklessly!" Gray reminded, features cramped, unused to be outspoken, but spurred into speaking out of kindness.
"A-Ah, yes," Kurata muttered before lowering his weapon, not dumb enough to be unable to see the correlation to Kuribayashi's injury and where she'd shot at the wizard, ugh, witch.
O God. A real witch.
"That goes for you guys too!" Gray also warned Tuka and Caila who were readying their bows.
Meanwhile, Lelei and her professor, Cato, stumbled out of Llamrei II looking entirely motion sick, but aware enough to judge what was happening with intuitive eyes.
Unlike Caila and Tuka who could sense that something was wrong through their connection with nature as elves, Cato and Lelei were more interested in the workings of an unseen magic.
Both Cato and Lelei were mages of this world, scholars that had spent a considerable number of hours spent studying the workings of their world's magic. Only, the magic they were witnessing now was far different from the rudimentary and arguably basic magic they knew.
The JSDF's guns, vehicles, and modern technology far dwarfed any magic Cato or Lelei knew from lethality all the way to communication and convenience.
But this was different.
"Listen to what she says!" Itami as the captain of the third recon unit issued orders before confusion and unease could disrupt the chain of command.
Without waiting, Itami then dashed toward Kuribayashi.
"Captain?!" Kurata and Mari called. "Wait!"
The danger was unknown. It was right to try and understand how to avoid it, yet Itami wasn't a conventional man.
Itami didn't listen to Kurata and Mari, his gaze focused on his downed colleague who'd fallen on the ground screaming in agony while trying to avoid putting pressure on her mangled foot.
Specters of the enemy appeared in droves around the entire area, and there was no telling what they could actively do, but in some ways, Itami was always the most observant of his group.
The enemy, a witch of some sort, was using some eerie magic that made numerous copies of her that surrounded the group.
It was impossible for Itami to tell whether they were real or not, and given Kuribayashi's example, he wasn't keen on testing at the moment.
However, brashly running into danger didn't mean Itami was suicidal. Rather, he was paying attention to another variable that was keeping the witch at bay from the others.
'Arthur' was moving at incomprehensible speeds beyond human capability and pricking each specter of the witch with a red spear that immediately dispelled the apparition.
The corners of Itami's brow twitched with wonderment at the growing sense of recognition.
Gáe Dearg, Crimson Rose of Exorcism.
Snippets of information Itami recalled reading as an avid Otaku of his world were giving him a jarring sense of reality and make-believe that he shouldn't have allowed on a battlefield.
He shook his head. Survival instinct and training beaten into him in his days in the military had him moving on auto-pilot.
Reaching Kuribayashi, he tore off a piece of cloth from his inner garments, rolled it up into a sizable wad, and then put it in front of Kuribayashi's mouth.
"Bite this," Itami said, looking at all the blood leaking from Kuribayashi's foot and wincing with what he was going to do. "It's going to hurt."
Securing his arms underneath Kuribayashi's armpits, Itami began to drag her away, the weight of her equipment and body, too much for Itami to lift on his own. It was an excuse. The real reason was to remain close to the ground to reduce surface area against stray bullets in a warzone.
This situation was no warzone with flying bullets, but Itami was being cautious with whatever magic could be flying through the air that he just couldn't see.
Kuribayashi's muffled screaming persisted in Itami's ears. Her foot dragged roughly against the ground, but eventually, the two made it close enough for Itami to issue orders to the rest of his unit without fear of danger to them.
"Kurokawa, take Kuribayashi back to the vehicles!" Itami called on Mari, the team's medic.
"Roger!" Mari was quick to action. She was already worried about the amount of blood Kuribayashi had already lost. This far out in the world beyond the gate, Mari didn't have the supplies or necessary containers to carry blood packs.
Quickly, Mari began making a tourniquet around Kuribayashi's injured limb while Kurata moved to back up Itami.
"What sort of magic is that?" Itami asked Gray who was staying near the group to defend them while Shirou gathered the enemy's attention.
Lelei and Cato's ears perked up at the question before they focused on Gray who was put on the spot.
Furrowing her brows, Gray realized she couldn't pull her hood further down her face while holding Add in her hands. The pressure of being a spokesperson weighed heavily on her shoulders as a socially inept girl. So, Gray changed the setting from interacting with others to pretending she was attending one of Waver's lectures.
"It's a curse." She muttered. "A fairly basic one, but not something you'd want to ignorantly handle."
Gray faced the enemy, back turned on everyone else, both to be cautious and to prevent her from stuttering from performance anxiety.
"It's incorporated in one of the twelve domains of mysticism, namely a joint branch study in the department of curses and lore regarding pagan ritual magics-"
"Do you recognize the origin?" Shirou called out, making it clear that he was also listening to Gray.
Gray stared dubiously at Shirou, as it was something most magi would know, but then she shook her head. Waver had said that Shirou wasn't an ordinary magus to begin with, then again, neither was she.
For a second, her expression softened, as she recalled the days when she first came to the Clock Tower, ignorant and reticent. A horrendous combination.
Flinching from the black marks of her own history, Gray quickly brought up the relevant information.
"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, the basis of the curse lies in karma and retribution."
Narrowing her eyes, Gray analysed the enemy's magecraft to the best of her knowledge. Considering that the enemy magus made no movements to evade any attacks, the central point of her craft lied in the moment of impact.
Gray eased her stance, letting go of her two-handed grip on Add and straightening her posture.
"What does that mean?" Kurata asked, hands clammy.
"Ever heard of voodism?" Gray replied. "Magic is imbued into a medium, usually a doll containing traces or symbols that represent the curse's target, and that doll essentially represents the person. Harm done to the doll is reflected on the target."
"That sounds atrocious," Cato murmured, shivering while Lelei nodded her head with grim features. "A technique of assassination and torment…"
Itami and the others grunted in acknowledgment. The thought of such a magic was fear inducing enough in their modern world where voodism was a target of superstition. Here, it was apparently real.
Mari swallowed. "But we met this witch for the first time. How could she have gotten anything belonging to Kuribayashi?"
Gray shook her head. "I didn't say it was Voodism."
The enemy was an unaffiliated magus who was likely only a second-tier at best. Without connections, access to truly potent magecraft would be limited solely to their own studies. At least, that was how Waver explained it to Gray.
"She's using some sort of offshoot mystery based on illusions as a medium rather than a doll."
The advantage was that the caster didn't need to gather the belongings or pieces of a target to invoke a curse, but the disadvantage was also blatant.
At first glance, the mystery seemed advanced, but there were glaring faults Waver and Reines would have scoffed at.
"See how she can only stand there?" Gray muttered.
Using a doll, the caster can freely manipulate it into twisted angles and can freely inflict harm upon it. However, the illusions were motionless apparitions reliant on using the moment when an injury was inflicted to return it to the assailant using karmic theory.
"If we don't harm them, she can't do anything else." Gray got to the crux of the matter.
.
.
.
"A game of chicken?" Caila was one of the first to reach Gray's conclusion, followed by Lelei, then the rest. "What's the point of it?"
Shirou swept the red spear in his hands in an arc and dispelled the few remaining specters present, expression hardening.
He wasn't the smartest, but his senses were the most spot on among anyone.
Having witnessed a Noble Phantasm being used, would the enemy really have confidence in victory?
"Because she's not trying to win," Shirou said.
He glanced in the direction of the red dragon's corpse.
Fools.
There was no way she'd fight head on and die for vanity's sake. Not when what mattered was already before her eyes!
Her name was Edith Nul Mulberry, a person of little consequence and presence despite a staggering self-pride.
The other magi in the Clock Tower just couldn't see it. Her genius and wit. When her research was concluded, everything would finally fall within the palm of her hands. Those who scorned her, belittled her, or advised against her branch of thaumaturgy would rue the day they despised her.
Pagan mystics were obviously looked down upon, but Edith's family had history in Salem back in the witch hunts. The records kept in her family ancestry had her fascinated with rituals and superstitions that touched on a concept of fate and karma that she believed could lead her to the Root.
Fate is everywhere, and old crafts detailed an extensive pursuit in the connectivity of karma. If that karma is truck or harmed, that too reflects on the condition of a person or individual. Everyone had a type of karma, and as sentient beings, that karma had to have a source.
Namely, the Root of all.
It must be, but everyone laughed at her. Her research had also hit a road block due to lack of reagents and proper testing on a human experimental group.
Secrecy of the Moonlit world was heavily enforced, and Edith had been losing hope until now.
Forget about testing on people, right now her focus was on the greatest of all research materials at the top of Phantasmals.
A Dragon.
The entire dragon's corpse was a treasure that touched upon every mystic imaginable. The fate or karma of a Dragon was of immense value to Edith's craft, and she hoped to strengthen and elevate her studies to the next level using it.
The effects of her magecraft were limited, but the corpse of the Dragon could provide the breakthrough she needed in her research!
What if she could turn her illusions into autonomous corporal forms?
What if she found a way to tie one's karma to a mouldable medium without contact?
She'd be unstoppable unless the enemy could somehow dispel her mysteries.
Edith's eyes flickered with unconcealed avarice while inspecting the corpse. Though burned, the scales were tough and impossible for her to physically pry loose. She hoped for a chipped tooth or a claw.
A piece would be enough, as karma and fate is attached to the body living or dead. She'd simply get what she needs then disappear to further her research until live trials.
Yes. It was all finally looking up for her!
The corners of her lips tugged upward, crinkles forming just above her eyes from how widely she was smiling, her breaths hoarse with anticipation.
"Oh? That's a nice expression. Is this dirty corpse truly worth anything good?"
A nonchalant voice asked Edith.
"Of course, only an ignorant-?"
Huh?
Edith paused, staring at a girl in a goth-lolita black dress crouched by the side of the dragon's corpse and poking it with a finger until she lost interest. She was carrying a massive axe-halberd over her back, and the red trims of her dress reeked of the scent of blood.
"Ignorant? I suppose I can be called that."
Rory Mercury stood up from her crouch and stared directly at Edith whose jaw clenched in place.
Edith wasn't speaking, rather she was processing how she hadn't noticed someone as conspicuously dressed as Rory.
Rory blinked at Edith with feigned interest; her attention focused more on the way she could perceive Edith's magic energy churning from what felt like radiating rods within her body.
Edith flared her magic circuits in a panic, ready to act at a moment's notice. An aura of energy began to spring around Edith like a light blue torch but even that faltered when Rory sighed.
Black and red tinged divinity suddenly exuded from Rory, covering her from head to toe as her expression beamed with savage delight.
Edith swallowed with realization. She'd never felt it before, but her intuition as a scholar and researcher told her that the aura around Rory wasn't magic. It was more potent, more representative of authority that no ordinary human could exude.
No way.
"T-This feeling…"
A Divine Spirit?!
Edith's expression crumpled as she staggered back, cursing when she processed that Rory was standing between her and the Dragon's corpse.
Rory's eyes were gleaming.
Bitch.
Edith knew Rory was purposely barring her from her goal and even deriving amusement from it.
"My name's Rory Mercury, Demi-God and Apostle of Emroy, governor of Darkness, War, Violence, and Death." Rory reached her arm over her shoulder, grabbed the hilt of her weapon, and then leisurely swung it to produce a gale force of wind that made a small cut on Edith's cheek. "My favorite is Violence; would you like to find out why?"
"…"
Edith's pupils dilated as her eyes widened, indignance momentarily overtaking fear.
"Why are you doing this? We have no qualms!"
"I suppose that's true," Rory smiled, showing the white of her teeth. "But you're being hunted by the Apostle of the Elven God, and he's the only one who didn't call me a crazy bitch after I tried to kil- ahem, greet him. You see most Apostles are hostile to each other. Differences in beliefs, personalities, and such, but I think I like this one. He's fun. Oh, and you also hurt one of the people I found interesting. What if they leave back to where they came from and I never see them again? You don't understand how much entertainment means in the monotony of the life of an Apostle, and I believe in war. Yet, I'm never able to participate due to checks from the Council of Apostles. I have little choice but to find other means of violence and satisfaction, and you've tried to deprive me of even that. So, in short ~ I'm thinking of how I should kill you?"
Edith trembled in agitation at Rory's sheer blatancy, but she could tell that beyond Rory's nonchalance, she was being dead serious.
Actualizing her magecraft, Edith quickly surrounded herself with illusory specters. Her magecraft could do nothing without being attacked, but she'd long since learned that it could work as a suitable defence if she just covered herself with them.
Edith was no idiot.
The moment she covered herself, she started running. It was a shame that she couldn't plunder the Dragon's corpse, but with its sheer size, there was nothing stopping her from coming back later. Should other magi be attracted to the corpse, it may even be prudent to join forces.
The thing about intellectuals, was that sometimes their thoughts were always too far ahead.
Clang.
Edith flinched, her body deforming over the base of a large polearm hefted with a single arm.
"Cute."
An insufferable voice mocked her before the impact registered and sent her violently tumbling over the ground.
The specters that Edith had been surrounding herself with were all blown away at once.
Obviously, Edith had never factored her opponent to seek mutual destruction, but again, Edith was getting ahead of herself while eating dirt on the ground.
Craning her neck up, Edith coughed, spitting bits of crushed organs and blood from her mouth while her chest heaved up and down for air.
Rory Mercury was unharmed, and stood in place as if she were looking at an exotic animal.
"H-How?" Edith unsteadily staggered to her feet.
Rory smirked, shadows flickering around her and forming a layer over her skin. It was a divine Authority or protection over shadows. "To stare at darkness is to stare at a void. Can darkness feel pain?"
Demi-God. The modern world Edith lived in was bereft of them, but it didn't mean their extraordinary feats went undocumented.
Each and every single one was a monster who could slaughter armies even without magecraft.
Edith's teeth began to chatter as Rory strode towards her.
Trying to run, Edith's knees miserably began to give out on her.
"Ah, I've finally decided."
No. NO! She can't die here!
Edith's vision suddenly dropped as her body grew numb from the neck down.
"Off with your head. Nice and clean."
/-/
The ground rumbled as Shirou hastily made his way to the Dragon's corpse on Reinforced legs, only, he didn't immediately find who he was looking for.
Rather, he was greeted by a woman sitting on the Dragon's corpse and idly swinging her legs back and forth in the moonlight
"Rory?" He called, wondering how she got here before him.
She grinned, hopping off the Dragon and dragging a headless corpse beside her that she threw to Shirou as if it were a gift. Blood splattered over his face, enhancing his appearance in Rory's eyes.
The man didn't even blink, as if he was used to this level of death and violence.
Rory's expression grew blindingly sweet at the revelation, wondering if she could convert an Elven Apostle to Emroy, the true lord and saviour.
She could hardly contain herself after picturing the faces the elves would make. Ah, the sacrilege, the blasphemy!
The First Crusade of the Elves would surely kick off between the Denominations.
A glorious Holy War! She'd surely be able to participate!
Rory licked her lips.
"~Oh, sorry, but you're a bit late Long Ears. Blood looks good on you, matches with the hair."
A strange noise escaped from behind Shirou as Tuka and Caila arrived with their natural agility just in time to hear such sinful words before the rest could arrive.
Rory grinned.
This year's Council of Apostles was going to be amusing.
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