Chapter 59: A Brother's Gift

There was a rule that Damocles-Nii had insisted on, that anyone leaving the Manor had to have a partner with them. This was readily accepted by the Peerage, everyone well aware of the myriad threats and enemies that were just waiting for an opportunity to strike out against them. However, this did lead to several pairings to become entrenched.

Some of the Peerage simply got on with others better, or their schedules merely lined up more closely than with others. One such pairing was with Naomi and Shiro. Usually, whenever Naomi had to leave to do the shopping for the Manor, Shiro was free to accompany her, the timing matching up rather well in-between her studies. Of course, the fact that she was treated to sweets whenever this occurred made sure that her schedule remained clear for these outings.

Currently, Shiro was walking alongside Naomi, everything looking exactly the same as the last several dozen times this had happened. However, Shiro couldn't help but feel that something was wrong, something about the situation simply didn't feel correct. Remembering the advice from her Older Brother, she trusted her gut and started to subtly look for whatever was causing the feeling.

She couldn't find it. No matter how far she searched, or where she cast her gaze, everything seemed normal, ordinary. Almost too ordinary. Suddenly, she spotted an anomaly that stuck out to her like a sore thumb. That vendor on the sidewalk, the one selling fruits to a crowd that was curiously looking at Naomi and her. He was familiar. The reason for this was something she quickly remembered.

There was a person that she saw earlier on in their walk, a man who was walking with his girlfriend. Thanks to her memory, she could visualise the two men next to each other and realise that they shared the same face. Not similar features, not a resemblance, the exact same face. Her suspicions raised, she turned to the figure of Naomi who was walking by her side.

"Yes Shiro?" Naomi smiled as she tilted her head in curiosity, "What is it?"

Shiro mentally thanked her Brother for his paranoia, as when he figured out that several of the Peerage members had paired off, he had them devise a secret call sign with each other. No two were the same and the only people who knew the code were the two in the pairing, not even the other members of the Peerage.

She spoke to Naomi, staring into her face as she did so, "Nightmare."

Naomi blinked in surprise, "Pardon? Did you have a ni-."

Her words were cut off by a lance of lightning, Shiro having attacked as soon as she saw the confusion her statement generated. The attack sailed right through Naomi's head, which shimmered and distorted, fading into mist as the illusion that surrounded Shiro similarly disappeared. Instead of the nearest town to the Sagan Manor, she instead was in the Wastes, the no man's land that was uninhabited within the Underworld.

"Brutal." Came a male voice, the malice dripping off of every syllable palpable, "I can see why the Sagan chose to adopt you. You didn't hesitate for even a second."

Shiro didn't respond, stretching her senses to find where the voice's owner was hiding. There was no sign of him, apparently his usage of illusions stretched to making sure to keep himself hidden. She decided to take the lack of attack as a space to attempt to activate her emergency beacon, her hand reaching up to grab the necklace.

She dodged aside, the presence just barely being revealed before it struck, a man in chain-mail and furs grasping empty air instead of the Sagan Bishop he was aiming for.

"Fast, too. I am beginning to wonder if I picked the wrong one." He was unbothered by the scorching blast that hit him as he spoke, a floating rune dispelling the attack before it came close to him.

Shiro recalled her lessons with Ranni, the Carian Princess training her in the art of her magic. The movement of celestial bodies could not be blocked, magic not able to reach the stars. Holding that image in her mind, the movement of planets, stars travelling through the sky, she conjured her understanding of that movement, the brilliant blue shard of magic shooting out incredibly quickly, piercing through the rune and taking the man by surprise.

He barely dodged the Comet shard, the trailing blue projectile cutting into his side as his relaxed, unbothered attitude disappeared in an instant.

"You little Devil whore." He hissed, "You will pay dearly for that."

Shiro was already preparing her next spell, her hand curling around her amulet again as her other fished out an unassuming, plain metal ball from a pouch by her side. That hand was stopped, however, as her own shadow curled around her, restricting her movements. Thankfully, her other hand successfully made it to the Amulet, but she was unable to use it before a glowing green dagger was placed point first against her neck.

"I should have taken you more seriously from the start, I suppose. But that was always a problem of mine, playing with my food too much. Now, don't do anything stupid, like using that trinket to call your Brother. Wouldn't want my hand to slip, now would we?" He grinned maliciously down at her, causing her to merely deadpan in response, the amulet in her grip pulsing, the distress signal being sent almost as he finished his sentence.

"You little bitch." He cursed, "Oh well, Plan B it is."

His piece said, his hand moved, the dagger pointed unerringly at the space in-between Shiro's defenceless shoulder and neck, aiming to bite deeply into her body. The edge dripped a sickly liquid, catching the pale green glow of the metal itself. No doubt, the poison coating the blade would wreak havoc on her body, putting her through immense agony.

At least, it would, if the weapon was not stopped in its tracks by a glowing, golden barrier.

"What?!" The assailant was surprised, feeling the Holy energy dripping from the defence that now protected the Devil, "How is this possible?"

He pulled the dagger back, striking it down even harder, attempting to break past the barrier, only to be blown away by a burst of rippling purple light.

Shiro fell, no longer supported by the magic that had kept her upright, only to be caught by familiar, strong arms.

"Are you okay Shiro?" Her Brother asked, eyes flicking over her form for injuries.

"Yes." She spoke, "Now that you're here."

After all, when Damocles was there, there was nothing in the world that could hurt her.

Well, this had not gone at all to plan, he could admit freely. Watching as the Sagan spoke to his sister and received a nod from her as she slipped out of his grasp and flew into the air, he half-heartedly attempted to feel his connection to the Wyrd Way he used to arrive to the Underworld, not at all surprised to find that he could no longer sense the entrance.

He didn't catch when exactly the Sagan had used the Lock, but it was obviously one of the first things he would have done after arriving. Things had really gone sideways quickly. Not that he was complaining, no plan went flawlessly, after all. Still, it was frustrating to not achieve even a single one of his aims here.

When the illustrious All-Father had banned all interaction with the Sagan and his new Goddess, Most in Asgard treated it as a curiosity, nothing more. Loki, however, saw something else within his adoptive father's actions.

Fear.

That was surprising to Loki. Sure, Odin had spent most of the time since the ceasefire was declared frantically searching for a way to avert his own death in Ragnarök, but that did not mean he was weak. Odin's death was fated to occur and no matter how powerful you were, fighting against fate itself was a difficult and tricky thing.

The All-Father was called so for a reason, Loki could admit. It's one of the things about him that was so irksome, that he almost lived up to his lofty title. Odin possessed ancient knowledge, powerful relics and a keen mind. When it came to battle, he had almost no equal.

So something that could cause him fear? Of course Loki had to investigate.

He wasn't an idiot, however. Anything capable of doing such a thing to the Allfather was certainly not something that would merely bend to his whims. That's why he needed to acquire leverage. That was the purpose of this whole excursion, after spying through his animal familiars, he deduced that the most vulnerable member of the Sagan's entourage was the little Shiro. Like he had done to many others before, he lured her into his trap, preparing to imprison her and dangle her life over the Sagan's head, allowing him to guide the Devil to aid him in Ragnarök.

With the sundering of Fate thanks to the new Goddess, it was an unsure thing if even Fenrir would be enough to kill his hateful Father. That's why he wanted to get something that was sure to do the job, by the Allfather's own reckoning. He didn't expect the little bitch to catch on so quickly though, he had barely managed to isolate her before she broke through his illusion.

He moved to plan B when she signalled her Brother, stabbing her with a poisoned dagger. The poison would be excruciating, but not deadly, at least not deadly enough to kill her anytime soon. This would allow the Trickster to drip feed the antidote to her brother to keep her alive and him on a leash.

However, he hadn't accounted for one thing.

The little shit had Avalon.

If he had time, he could have devised a way around it, but taken off guard as he was, there was no way his dagger would penetrate that defence anytime soon. He knew that the Sagan had stolen the artefact, of course, but he had assumed that he had claimed it for himself. It is what he would have done, the Devil showing a personality eerily similar to his own. However, apparently that is not what he had decided to do.

The reasoning came to him rather easily, of course. He had identified the weak link in the Peerage, the same as Loki had. Therefore he had turned the weakness into bait for a trap, giving her an incredibly powerful defence that would allow her to signal him no matter who came after her.

A trap that, frustratingly enough, he had fallen right into.

Flicking his hand, stowing away the now useless dagger, He spread his now free hands into a bow, dark eyes watching the Sagan warily, "Greetings, little Devil. I don't suppose you are in a talking mood?"

Assessing the damage he had sustained from the two attacks upon his person, he annoyingly enough discovered that he had been able to block the Sagan Lord's attack very well, meaning his only wound remained the one given to him by his supposedly 'weak' target.

Damocles Sagan didn't bother to respond to him, merely curling his hands around a sword that suddenly appeared in his grasp. Loki could feel the bloodlust dripping off of the weapon, its quiet lethality reminding him of the feeling of being stalked by a great predator when hunting.

"Guess not." The Trickster God readied himself for battle.

Without the Sagan's pet goddess present, he was fairly confident of winning this fight. After all, he was only fighting a juvenile Devil, barely even two decades of age. Besides, Loki was a God of the Norse. Whatever else his domain, whatever his preferred method of fighting, there was one field upon which all those who were venerated as such excelled.

War.

I gripped the Moonlight Great-sword, staring down the God in front of me, keeping my breath calm and even. I knew who he was, of course, the fur, chain-mail and bones a very distinct Cultural look. The wolf scarf and the dark, slyly glinting eyes only confirmed my suspicions. To be fair, of all the potential Gods that I could have fought, at least Loki was not the one with the most upfront combat power.

He still had several annoying tricks however, a sentiment that was proven entirely correct as he grinned he shimmered and disappeared from view. I activated my Geass, seeing the weaving of the illusion in front of me, trying to puzzle out why it was not being blocked by Mind Defence.

'Consort.' The soft voice of Ranni whispered to me from the Sword in my hands, 'Thy opponent's veil is not being weaved upon thine mind, but upon thine Soul. Allow me to assist.'

The air around me got noticeably colder, the sensation not feeling uncomfortable, but rather almost relaxing. Mist started to seep from the metal of the blade in my grasp, trailing down to the ground as Loki's form reappeared, allowing me to see him position for a strike at my side.

Not reacting until the last moment to keep my newly gifted ability to see through his illusions a secret for now, I whirled the Moonlight Sword to lock against one of his daggers, tilting my head to let the other stab past it. Snapping my left hand off the hilt of my weapon, I clasped his wrist to prevent his attempt to reorient the blade into the side of my face.

Loki grinned at me, excitement in his eyes, "You have no idea what you're risking, little Devil. Even if I die here, you will only cause greater issues for yourself."

"You assume I give a shit about what you have to say." I reply, an image flashing through my head as my Demonic Power reacted.

Ripples across a moonlit pond.

"I always appreciated the arrogance of-" Whatever he was about to say was ended abruptly by the explosion of purple energy that blasted him away from me.

He flipped through the air, landing on his feet in a feat of agility, before hurriedly dancing to the side, the brilliant bolt of white light from above smashing through his shoulder instead of his heart where it was originally aimed. He snarled, a rune flickering to life as he pointed a hand to the floating form of Shiro flying above us, before he hurriedly snatched it back to deflect the blue wave of Moonlight that my follow up slash sent at him.

A whirlpool of stars, circling a sphere of Nothing.

Grasping my left hand I curled it bedside my head, a dark, black-purple lance of energy appearing in its grasp as I threw it like a javelin at the God, having to dodge out of the way of the glowing daggers he sent back in retaliation. The javelin slammed into the ground near him, having been easily sidestepped, before it darkened, the purple completely disappearing into a black void as everything around it began to be sucked into the shaft of magic.

Loki himself was not exempt from this, the sudden force almost yanking him off his feet, fouling his footing and allowing another brilliant bolt of white from Shiro to blast into his side. Floating high above the field, she was able to leisurely take her time to line up her shots, the balls of Demonic Iron being super accelerated to devastating effect.

Spreading out my hand, I caused the spear I threw to destabilize, exploding with tremendous force, having to quickly conjure up a barrier to dissolve the daggers that had changed their course to come flying at me from a blind spot. Twirling on my feet, I once again blocked a strike from the god, his speed and agility allowing him to quickly close the gap between us having dodged the explosion, correctly deducing that with him so close to me Shiro would have difficulty aiming.

He was worse for the wear, being taken by surprise between the two of us, slightly glowing red Ichor dripping from the several wounds he had sustained. It was not enough to kill him, not nearly enough, but making a God bleed was a thing of note regardless.

As shown by the simmering rage in his gaze, looking upon me with curled lips. A flurry of blows followed, the memory of the Ashes of the Sword allowing me to barely keep up with his practised slashes and stabs, forcing him to block with both daggers before he could bring his ambidextrous advantage to bear several times.

Suddenly a spear of earth arose from behind me, travelling to impale my spine, only to be stopped by a glowing blue sigil. Up above, the blond form of Naomi appeared, the one responsible for the save, briefly speaking with Shiro before giving the smaller girl a short hug.

Catching all this from the corner of my eye while barely keeping the blades of the God in front of me away, I poured my Demonic Power into the Moonlight, a brilliant flash of light blowing open his guard and allowing me to attempt to run him through.

Dispersing into a trail of mist, the God reformed a few paces away, dodging the blow, a glowing rune catching the immediate shot of bright light from above. He shimmered, an illusion wrapping around everyone present once again, allowing only me to see as he stepped back from several half-real ghosts and doppelgangers.

They spoke as one, "I must commend you, forcing me this far. Unfortunately, Blood must be paid for in Blood."

He started glowing, sickly green and blue light being hidden from those who couldn't see through the illusion. Said illusion was not just ethereal, the God leaning upon his Authority to apply substance to the phantoms, allowing their blades to score several shallow slices all over my body as I fought them off.

Deciding to utilize my hidden advantage at this moment, not keen on facing a God with their full power unleashed, I stepped, teleporting right in front of the shocked Loki, stopping his reaction with a single word.

"Lock."

My reserves hit zero instantly, the sudden sensation causing a wave of dizziness and discomfort to overcome me. Having expected it, I was still able to ram the Moonlight Great-sword through the still reeling God, his connection to his Domain's being briefly disrupted having affected him severely.

He coughed, the blade forcing itself through his chest. He raised a hand, dagger aimed at me, before it flopped, all strength leaving his form.

"What…?" His voice was tired and confused.

"Foul creature. I can feel the anchors of thy soul. Did thou thinkest that this attack upon mine Consort would go unpunished?" Ranni's voice sounded from all around us, the trailing mist from the blade in my grasp increasing in consistency, as before my eyes the God of Trickery started to writhe.

His already pale skin turned pallid, cheeks becoming gaunt and sinking in on themselves as he withered and decayed, the sword seeming to drink his essence, his body beginning to dissolve as it was drawn into the blade. Disconcertingly enough, he was smiling widely as he died.

"Ah…" His voice held immense pain, but contained a childlike wonder and glee, "So that is what you are… what… delicious Chaos… you shall bring."

His final words hanging in the air, Loki of Asgard died as his life was devoured by the Blade of the Moon.