High, high above the Welsh countryside, above the village of Caerleon, atop a castle parapet, two devils stood waiting. Waiting for their signal to act.

"Is this really the best way to go about this?"

"I trust Lulu."

Kuisha smiled despite her fear. "I know you do." She loved her King's simple and straightforward view of the world. Even so, "But I can't help but worry. You're going to be alone. Against knights."

"Human knights," Sairaorg corrected.

"Even so," she continued on. "Light weapons alone could level the playing field. You know that. A Rook's durability–"

"A normal Rook's durability doesn't hold a candle to mine." It was supposed to be reassuring but it just sounded like bravado to her ears. The musclebound younger son of the Bael took his Queen's hands in his. "This is all I've wanted. For a long, long time. I want to be useful. I want to pay him back for everything he's done for me."

"Has he ever asked you to? Has he ever once asked you to?" she asked. A question she had asked before. Whenever he spoke of this debt Sairaorg felt he owed.

"It isn't about him. It's about me. I need to pay him back, so I will. What Lulu wants has nothing to do with it."

"That's not how debts work!" the blonde Queen laughed.

"Well it's how I work!" he answered proudly, giving her the winning smile that always won her over. "Trust me. I'll be fine. I promise."

"I'll hold you to that."

His smile fell to a frown as he listened to a voice she couldn't hear. "It's time."

They both heard Kuroka's voice reply as Sairaorg relayed the message to her. "Enemies still in position."

Sairaorg relayed that back to the rest of Lelouch's peerage, the extra step mildly inconvenient but not debilitating. Lelouch they had said they needed someone outside to observe in case Arthur or anyone else was on their way. There was no one more suited to the task than Kuroka who could examine the castle inside and out at all times.

With one last lean in to peck him on the lips, Kuisha Abaddon unfurled her wings, swooping down and away from the castle, joining the two other women on the ground. The Bishop and Queen of Lelouch's peerage. "Are we ready?"

"Yes."

"As I'll ever be," Kallen agreed as they began walking toward the towering structure. "Storming a castle. Yep. That's how my days go nowadays."

"We aren't storming," Anastasia corrected. "We're infiltrating."

They approached the front gate. The guards in full plate armour standing at attention, standing vigilant. And yet even so, they continued to stare as if the women weren't there as they passed. The entrance behind them entirely unlocked. "How did Lelouch even do this?" Kuisha asked.

"He has his ways," Anastasia offered. A vague answer that satisfied neither woman's curiosity.

Suddenly, the strain all of them had been feeling, the stress of being on consecrated ground receded. One of the major concerns of the devils for the attack was no longer an issue. Another event that had no explanation beyond something that Lelouch had done.

"Let's go," Kallen urged as they crept inside. "Lelouch is on his way back to Kuroka."

Sairaorg's Queen nodded, listening with her other ear to Kuroka's guidance through the castle as rumbling could be heard above. The guards from outside immediately entered, running down the opposite hallway. "It's this way. Come on."

-(-)-

"Okay. Trained for this. I have this." Sairaorg nodded to himself, hopping on the spot gently as he prepared himself for his first real fight. Lelouch was confident in him. He just needed to tell himself he could do this. Lelouch wasn't even giving him the real dangerous fight. Which was patronising but maybe he understood where Lelouch was coming from. Protecting him was what Lelouch did, for better or worse. It stung, deeply, but he understood it.

He raised himself up into the air with his wings. Twenty feet. Forty. A hundred. Two hundred.

Even if it wasn't the most dangerous job, wasn't the most dangerous opponent, he would give his best here. He owed Lelouch that and more and more besides.

"Go, Master!"

The command from his own Bishop was strange. Though it helped that it sounded more like she was cheering him on than anything. He took a deep breath in, then descended with force and intent, head-first. Diving toward the stone roof of the castle with his fist cocked back. "INCOMIIIIING!" he called out for no one but himself, driving his fist down as he pulled the other back. Stone broke. Brick shattered and scattered. His left fist drilled down, striking the next floor. Again and again punching his way through the building until–

"There!"

The warning in his head came through that he had reached his first destination. A hall containing four knights in gleaming plate armour. All of them staring at him in abject confusion. A teenager that dropped like a meteor onto and into their stronghold.

"We're under atta–!" One of them tried to shout a warning, tried to draw his sword. He didn't fully manage either. One of Sairaorg's mitts grabbed him by the head, swinging him around as a thrown bludgeon at another of the gleaming knights before leaping forward. One punch into the solid metal armour of one. It didn't bend. Didn't buckle. Enchanted. Or blessed. But even if it wouldn't break, that didn't stop the knight inside from feeling it, or from being thrown back by the impact of it. Off his feet, into and through a wall. The fourth had his sword drawn by the time Sairaorg reached him. A swing to keep him at bay, well practiced and confident despite the circumstances. It didn't prevent Sairaorg using the movement to push the knight into overcommitting. Turned side-on, the knight could do little with his sword arm caught by a much stronger hand as Sairaorg body checked him toward the wall. Grabbed him by the head and slammed it into the hard surface until the wall gave. Thankfully by then, the knight had stopped moving.

"Nyicely done, Master! Three more directly below, two more in the next room from them."

"Thanks!" he answered, grinning as he jumped up and stomped his way through another floor.

-(-)-

"I should be down there," Sara told herself. "I should be down there where Lelouch will be. I'm supposed to protect him."

Stupid boy, sending both of his Rooks away. Even if Sara couldn't be there, Sairaorg at least would have served as a bodyguard!

Still...

She hovered outside the castle wall, three floors up. There were four powerful presences within the castle according to Kuroka. One behind this wall. The other just one floor below. Even if she wasn't by his side... The role she had been assigned by him was still protecting him. Four powerful presences. She would be sure to remove two of them from the field herself.

One hand reached into the pouch on her right thigh, pulling loose a stone of a yellow colour. Cut to the shape of splendid reflective beauty, while even as she held it between her fingers it seemed to buzz. She put it between her teeth and bit down, shattering the gem in a single bite. Electricity coursed through her mouth to the rest of her body but it was nothing compared to after she swallowed the shards. The power infused into the stone exploding outward.

Noisily.

She heard the younger Bael sibling breaking the roof far above. She twisted her body in mid-air trusting her wings to keep her aloft before drilling herself forward feet-first. The stone wall was nothing compared to the force she was capable of exerting. The room inside was filled with lightning sparking off of her Spiral Arrow technique.

But as it came to an end, she realised her target was not where she expected him to be. Nor was he as dead as she expected him to be even if he had moved. "Good instincts," she complimented him.

The knight, for what could he be but a knight, glared at her. He wore no helmet. A not uncommon preference for those who fought on a supernatural level. Awareness and peripheral vision could usually save your life more than a layer of metal. Unless it was a really good helmet. One arm held an unsheathed sword. The other an enormous shield polished to a mirror shine. His hair was a sandy brown, the bridge of his nose marked by freckles. "Attackers then?" he asked. "What are you? Monster? Demon? Fallen?"

"Oh, are we playing guessing games?" Sara asked. "Because we're looking into Arthur Pendragon. And with this rebuilt Camelot, your shiny armour and even shinier shield, that would make you–"

"You challenge Sir Kay, if you must know," the knight answered before she could guess. "I ask again, what are you and what is your purpose here?"

"I don't need to tell you who or what I am. As for my purpose, making sure you aren't a problem."

"Then may God show you the mercy I lack," he prayed, noticing her twitch. "I duel with a devil then. So be it."

-(-)-

Another knight had waited on the floor below in a reading room nearly bereft of books. The castle was rather new after all. And inspiring as it might have been to reside in a new Camelot, they didn't expect to stay much longer. One floor below where Sir Kay was maintaining arms. One above the ground floor of the castle. While his misgivings about their purpose here were many, while his worries were equally numerous, there was little to be done. Their King would return soon enough, either with a solution... Or without. The knight knew which one he prayed for. The things that had been done in the name of this goal, they chilled his blood. But he trusted in his King, even if perhaps that King's trust had been misplaced.

He sighed, closing the novel he had been trying to enjoy and depositing it on a nearby table. He stood, walking toward the window, hearing the sparse feather light taps of raindrops on the stones outside. "Seems to be spitting," he observed aloud. "Perhaps even the heavens weep for our folly." Then the rumble. "Thunder?" No. No it clearly wasn't. He could hear, he could feel the devastation being wrought on the upper levels of the castle as the entire structure quaked. And then another, louder, closer. Only a floor up. Where Sir Kay was.

They were under attack. But... Why attack from the roof? A distraction? Was the real target Sir Kay? It wasn't impossible. The knight moved, taking up his sword in his left hand as he headed for the stairs to the third floor, his other hand pulling out a phone. Hitting his first speed-dial number he waited for the voicemail to pick up.

... Why would they attack Sir Kay? No one knew about them at all so far as he knew. Only their King was a known quantity. Coming here to attack Sir Kay as their objective made no sense. Which only left...

He turned around. Heading instead downstairs as the voicemail picked up. "My liege, we are under attack. I suspect their target to be Sir Galahad. Please return as soon as you are able." He snapped the phone shut. Ran for the entrance only to run across the guards on gate duty. "What's happening at the gate?!" he demanded.

"Nothing, Sir!" one of them answered in confusion. "But there's something going on upstairs!"

"... Third floor. Reinforce Sir Kay," he ordered.

"Yes, Sir!"

It was still wrong. Something still didn't make sense. He checked the entrance, but sure enough, nothing was out of place save for the guards having abandoned their post. Something he could only blame them so much for given the massive distraction.

... No. He knew it. Call it a gut feeling but he knew they were all being had here, evidence or not. He ran, taking the shortest path directly to where he knew they would go. They would arrive before him but between the madman below and he himself ambushing them from behind they'd be able to...

He stopped. In the hallway beyond the stairs down to the basements of the castle. His quarry were already there waiting for him.

-(-)-

A moment ago

Lelouch sighed in satisfaction as he emerged in the tear in reality Kuisha had formed, standing on the solid stone of the castle interior. "Thank you Kuisha, you did wonderfully." She smiled, but didn't give a vocal response.

Time had the potential to be their greatest enemy in this case. Strong fighters were a threat, but there was one thing they could not afford and that was for Arthur to return in time to intervene. Thus, they only had the time for the slightest, most important preparations. Lelouch handled both personally. In his 'scouting', he had walked right up to the front gate and geassed both guards to not notice anyone coming or going through the gate. Then, he had gone directly to the nearby church and geassed the priest to personally desecrate it, weakening the protections from devils the consecrated grounds afforded.

That was the time in which the attack began in earnest. All while Lelouch returned to Kuroka. A location Kuisha knew well enough to form a hole to. Once the girls were inside she did exactly that, letting him join them inside the castle walls right where they needed to be. No guidance needed. No risk of him running across someone by accident. All phase one objectives accomplished. On to phase two. "It's time for you to head back outside." Her powers were an undeniable advantage but she wasn't anywhere near what she needed to be to get involved in fights like this. With where they were going, a real fight would be inevitable. She would be dead weight in such a circumstance.

Her mouth opened, but then closed again. "Kuroka says your distraction didn't work. The other strong presence is on his way."

... Well. That complicated things a little. But not enough to change his stance on her. "That's all the more reason you need to leave. Go." Silently, he added another request to Sairaorg to back him up. He didn't have time for her to be stubborn about this.

She frowned deeply, but hopped through her own portal before it shut. The only evidence it was ever there being a damp patch of stone from the rain.

Lelouch's adjustment to the plan was already locked in place. It was all a matter of execution. They couldn't move forward. Leaving an enemy at their backs while assaulting someone more powerful would just end with them fighting both at once. They needed to clear this mess up before they could move on, or at least confront them with a force they couldn't easily push through.

He waited, still arranging his plan as the knight rounded the corner. Armoured. No shield. A simple, unimpressive blade in his left hand.

-(-)-

Sara was beginning to get frustrated with her opponent. Rooks were built for durability and force. A powerful attack that could destroy buildings, break through any wall. She and Sairaorg had been set to prove that with this operation. Both had succeeded.

But Sir Kay was evidently one wall that would not be so easily broken. It may have had something to do with his fighting style. He was very fond of hiding behind that giant shield of his. And frustrating as it was, whatever it was made of, that shield seemed capable of taking everything she incidentally threw at it while trying to hit the bastard. As Rooks went, she wasn't slow. She had been chosen as a Rook because she was already a quick, agile fighter. And yet he stayed ahead of her. Not out of any great skill. He simply kept that shield between him and any attacks and made them all worthless. She would flip over him, kick at the back of his head and somehow that shield would be there waiting for her. She grabbed his legs and threw him and he took the entirety of the impact on that shield. Was it his reaction speed? It must have been insanely fast to so consistently read her.

She drove two other knights that had decided to bother her into a wall, leaving their bodies hanging through on the other side. But... He didn't even try to take advantage of the distraction. Which was smart of him because she had been hoping to turn it on him, but still. "What's your game?"

"I remember asking you first," he answered with almost amusement.

She didn't have time for this. She was supposed to take out two targets and the second hadn't shown up. That meant something had gone wrong. More than the fact that she was still dealing with this idiot. "Fine. I'm done playing anyway." She pulled out another gem. A ruby that burned to the touch.

"Yes, I think it's about that time," Sir Kay agreed. "If I may ask, are you familiar with me at all?"

"With a dumb kid role-playing as a knight from the dark ages? No."

"In the legends of the Knights of the Round Table, Sir Kay is famed for one tale in particular. The defeat of Cath Palug, a monstrous demonic cat that also held the properties of a fish. It slew a hundred knights before Sir Kay arrived with a mirrored shield–"

Oh. She was beginning to see the problem here.

"–that drew the beast's attention, seeing a reflection of itself in the shield and attacking it." He raised the enormous shield as it began to glow. "Would you like to meet the beast? Fascinate Jail, Release!" The shield glowed brighter as a hefty paw with multiple-inch-long claws gripped the edge of it from inside the surface. "Do you understand now? I should thank you for fighting so fiercely. You proved I was best suited to dealing with you. Every attack could only hit Fascinate Jail, and every one fed power into Cath Palug. And with all you've fed him, you'll get to experience him in his full glory."

Sara stood ready, waiting for the beast to come. Another paw gripped the edge as a scaled head with the features of a cat reared up from inside. In a flash and with feline grace, the beast leapt out from the shield, claws and fangs bared–

Only to be caught by the neck in mid-air by Sara's powerful thighs, flipped and body slammed through the floor. "Thank the Satans, something that will actually fight me!" She looked behind her, saw Sir Kay look at her with sudden terror, grabbed him and slammed his head into the wall like she had done the two others. It seemed now that the beast had been released, the shield's effect was nullified.

She dove through the hole in the floor, intent on finishing the beast for the sake of both business and pleasure.

-(-)-

Devil King and knight in Arthur's service stared one another down. Both of them content to stall for time, though neither of them knew that at that moment.

Lelouch examined him, the one that would be an obstacle to his goals. The one someone would need to deal with. At this point, it was largely a matter of who. Someone would stay behind to deal with him, but he also needed as much assistance as possible to deal with whatever was down below. The strongest presence in the castle and quite mad if Kuroka's analysis was to be believed.

He wasn't much to look at. He didn't cut an imposing figure. Compared to what most would imagine when thinking of a knight he was much more lithe. His pale blond, almost grey hair somewhat limp and lifeless. His green eyes gentle, his look as though he would rather this not end in conflict. Even if his body language proclaimed how aware he was that it was far too late for that.

"I don't suppose you'd give me your name?" the knight requested. "I am Sir Bedivere."

Lelouch blinked. So the knight thing went beyond aesthetics. They were really trying to build a new Arthurian court. How... Quaint. And uncomfortably familiar. Still, "I think you have one too many limbs to take that particular role."

"You would think," the so-called Sir Bedivere smiled in an entirely natural way. "So, your name, sir? I would appreciate the courtesy."

"Lelouch."

"And that's all you'll give me?" the knight asked. "Ah, but I suppose I only gave you one name also. So, Lelouch, why are you here?"

"Arthur wasn't as subtle as he thought he was. Someone noticed. What happened to his victims, Bedivere?" This was as good a time as any to get answers. Not much longer now.

The knight looked genuinely pained by the question. "I see. I... I wish I could give you a satisfying answer to that question. But even if I had one, my loyalty is with my King. I may advise, but I stand by my King's decisions no matter what."

Lelouch sighed. "A part of me respects that level of loyalty." He raised his hand, a mandala with a distinctive symbol on it.

One the knight Bedivere recognised. "Devils? To have ceded the moral high ground to devils. But even so." He raised his blade. "Course Armament: Airgetlám!" A silvery substance flowed out from Bedivere's right hand. Given the name he had given it, chances were it was genuine silver. "I'm sorry, but I cannot let you pass."

Not much of a threat. Certainly not enough for Lelouch to worry about what would happen next. "I'm afraid that isn't up to you."

"I don't suppose you'd consent to an honest duel?"

Lelouch smirked, almost in apology. "I don't even consent to fighting fair."

The moment Lelouch's sentence had been spoken, the ceiling directly above Bedivere shattered, a gleeful and proud Sairaorg descending on the knight he had taken completely by surprise. With wide eyes Bedivere rolled away, only for Sairaorg to chase him, fists clashing with rapidly forming silver weapons that were each shattered in one hit.

"Be safe, little brother," Lelouch spoke quietly, trusting in Sairaorg to handle things here as he used the spell mandala to cut a hole in the floor. He, Kallen and Ana all jumped in, down into the basement floor of the castle right at the stairwell. He gave one last order through telepathy. An order to Sara and Sairaorg both to evacuate when their opponents were dealt with. There was no need to stay beyond that. The plan was no longer to leave through the front door anyway. With the grounds losing their protection, they could teleport out as they liked.

There was no guidance needed anymore. The basement floor was simple. One enormous room. And one smaller room at the back. No furniture whatsoever in the enormous space, just a great ritual array. Absurdly complex. It would take days, perhaps even weeks to understand the full scope of what the ritual was meant to accomplish. But there were clues. First, the channel on the floor that extended from the edge of the array into the small side-room.

And second... "Master," Ana spoke with resignation. "These markings at the inner ring of the array, they represent–"

"I know." His tone was just as dismayed. A final proof that what he had been seeking to do had been doomed from the start. The symbols among those at the inner ring of the array, they represented sacrifice. Ritual sacrifice. And reaching out to feel for the energies of the room, there was still latent power in it, but only the dying dregs of excess magic.

The ritual had been used some time ago. All of the people abducted were already dead. What was done had already been done. All that remained was finding the what and the why, and by all evidence, the answer to those questions lay in the next room.

From which emerged the final danger of this operation. Another knight. A quite literal black knight. "Kallen, stay back and start boosting."

"BOOST!"

"Quietly."

"He's a dragon, he doesn't do quietly!"

"Ana?"

The wintery Bishop focused for a moment, bringing a queasiness to the room. She looked on the knight.

He looked back.

"Oh. Oh, he knows that was me," she uttered, wide eyes at the unnerving attention he was paying her. "I, I didn't see much! No special weaknesses but he's mad and–!"

"Booooost..."

"Pr... o... tect..." the sinister armoured figure ground out the word, every intelligible syllable sounding like agony. "My... Gala... haaaad... AaaahaaaaAAAaahaaAAAaaah!" The dark knight's sword swung back as he took an unnatural stance. He loped forward, unbalanced but frantic as he raced toward the woman that he felt had attacked first. The blade glowed a furious red, the edge an unnatural and ominous purple. The energy from that blade forced all three devils back a step, its very presence seeming to burn as much as their steps on the consecrated grounds had.

A panicking Ana deployed a mandala, the path between her and the mad knight overcome with a wave of ice. In the same moment, Kallen dashed forward, tearing Ana out of the way as she had seen what the Bishop could not. The knight tearing through the ice with violent swings, smashing through what remained with his own body until he was where he had last seen the ice witch. Perhaps it was his unrestrained instincts from his maddened state that allowed him to turn and raise his blade in front of him, let it shine with a holy aura to intercept the blast of destructive power that would have devoured him.

And then, the knight's entire attention was taken by the Bael. Lelouch grit his teeth. "That sword... And there goes my hope that you might have been their Agravain." It seemed in both lives, his goals would be hindered by the prowess of those styling themselves 'Lancelot'.

The dark knight crouched low, almost bestial in stance, one arm hanging limply. He ignored the bullets pinging uselessly against his armour from Kallen's sidearm. His head cocked to one side, staring at the devil before him. What an opportunity it would have been if his helmet didn't entirely cover his face. One might wonder how he could see, but from everything they had seen of him, they felt it fair to assume he didn't need to.

Lancelot moved again, the same loping movements carrying him forward, his loose stance letting him jerk, almost flow out of the way of the more concentrated blasts of destruction Lelouch sent at him. The Bael King retreated but the knight was his superior in speed even while evading. His Blaze Tenebrous spell doing little more than create a curtain for the cursed blade Arondight to slice through. Ana's frozen interventions proving no more of a deterrent than they had the first time.

"AaaaAAAaaaAAH!" the blade raised high, Lelouch's eyes widened.

"MOVE!" Kallen shouted, shoving him out of the way, raising her arm to take the blade on her gauntlet. The one part of her that was more dragon than devil. And yet it still burned. "FUCK!" she cursed loudly as she felt the holy aura of the blade burn her skin for being so close. With her power four times boosted, she shoved the blade away, turning the tables against the mad knight.

"Don't let it cut you!" Lelouch warned, relieved for himself but still terrified for his Queen.

"I know!" She didn't need him to tell her that. Her body could feel it already. Boosted or not, just being in close proximity was taking a toll on her. Worse, she couldn't attack in a worthwhile way while both avoiding the blade and responding to his implausible and unorthodox fighting style. More than once only her boosts had let her be fast enough to avoid losing an arm from overextending. Or worse.

But there was a third with them. One Lancelot had comfortably ignored while facing lesser opponents. But with his full attention focused on the determined devil Queen...

"Grah!" A cry of pain almost like the yelp of an animal as a chunk of ice embedded itself into a gap in his armour. "Ahh–!" Another. "AHHH!" Another. Each one not only an injury but also restricting his usual erratic movements so he couldn't dodge as well.

Which was how Kallen's haymaker was able to slam into the faceplate of his helmet.

"Graaah!" he cried out again, tossed away by the punch. Two of the three ice chunks shattering in his body. The redhead chased him down, pain or not, with a single goal in mind. The knight was a threat. More than that, he was deadly. But not as deadly without the one thing that harmed them just by getting close. Pain or not, she had to get the sword away from him.

"BOOST!"

This was her limit. Eight was the point when Ddraig would reset before long. The toll it took on her body too high to tolerate. She only had one target as she neared again. She hammered his right arm, sending his once direct flight into a tumble. But he still refused to let go even as the armour dented. "Dammit, let GO!" she demanded, picking her moment and hitting him again, the armour crumpling under her fist, blood spraying out from the joints.

Once more! She stomped her foot down on it as Lancelot landed. She'd separate the arm if she had to!

"RESET!"

"Shit!" Kallen exclaimed with wide eyes, her foot coming down to no effect whatsoever.

"Move!"

She jumped away. Watched as the power of destruction moved like a blade to sever the arm under the crumpled section of armour.

It was what she needed. She grabbed the armoured limb by the forearm stump and ran as fast as her legs could carry her.

"Good," Lelouch nodded, raising a hand, a yellow mandala appearing before it. "This will probably be a mercy."

"Wait!" Ana shouted, much to everyone's confusion. "You... You can understand us now, right?" she asked the knight. "You've lost! You've already lost, so please stop!"

"I... I will... Protect her..." Lancelot insisted. "You won't... Touch her! I'll die before I... Let you lay a finger on–!"

"We don't want to hurt her," Lelouch chimed in, not sure what Ana was going for or who 'her' was but was willing to trust his Bishop's insight. "We just want to know what–"

"My sword...!" Lancelot growled, staring at Kallen still holding his severed arm. "Give it... Give it back! I need it!" On unsteady feet, he took a step, then another. "A knight... Does not die... With empty hands!"

"STOP!"

The voice was new, stealing attention of all four combatants. Bringing it to the entrance to the small side room where a girl leaned heavily on the wall, panting for breath. "Stop, please!" A short bob of pink hair covered one of her amethyst eyes. Her skin was pale, her appearance sickly. Even with that one plea she looked about ready to collapse. "Don't... Don't die for... For me..." Her body succumbed to whatever ailed her, her eyes drifting closed as she collapsed. Anastasia moved, ready to catch her and prevent a simple fall the girl might not have survived.

Lelouch's attention returned to the one threat in the room, staring at the dark knight with severity. "She begged you not to die. Whose wishes are more important? Yours or hers?"

"I..."

To Lelouch's relief, it seemed this Lancelot wasn't as stubborn as the one he knew. The armoured figure dropping to a knee, a sign of surrender, unable to make the more traditional gesture of dropping his sword. The King approached, a mandala forming on his hand that made the knight tense up, until a flow of water cleansed the vicious wound. Followed by an awkward binding. "It should stem the bleeding."

"Lelouch!"

The Bael looked to the hole he had made to enter the basement, seeing his brother carrying a bloodied Sir Bedivere under one arm drop into the room. "I thought I told you to leave."

"Yeah, but this guy says he's got some important stuff to tell you."

The elder brother sighed as he watched Sairaorg shake his captive as if to cajole him to start talking. "Put him down," he ordered.

"Okay."

The silver handed knight grunted as he was deposited on the floor propped up against one wall. "I suppose we are defeated."

"Looks that way," Lelouch agreed. "Feeling a little more talkative now?"

"I..." He looked to the unmoving form of the pink-haired girl. "It's said that devils have the power of resurrection. Is this true?"

"Yes." It wasn't in any way a secret. "We do, though it comes at a price. Those we bring back are made devils, taken into the service of their King. Why?"

The silver knight nodded. "I see. Then... These are our terms of surrender. You will allow us to go free. In exchange, I will tell you what you want to know about those our liege took and we will allow you to take her into your service."

It was honestly amusing for Lelouch. Whatever else could be said for Arthur and so far as Lelouch knew, there was a laundry list of unflattering things that could be said, he had found himself some capable subordinates. Bedivere was a clever one despite his unimpressive appearance. Saw through both distractions to see Lelouch's true goal, and now was turning the achieving of that goal into a bargaining chip. Offering Lelouch a girl Bedivere didn't want to die, knowing he was likely one of the few chances to save her. Framed as an advantage for Lelouch, when really it was what both of them wanted.

Unexpectedly, the Bael found himself liking the dutiful knight. He looked to the girl. Weak. Feeble, even. But her value didn't lie.

The ritual. And she was the target. The recipient. "First. Tell me who she is."

The silver-handed knight looked down, guilt and regret written on his face, plain as day. "She was supposed to be our Galahad."

-(-)-

A/N: This chapter seen early by my generous supporters on THE GREAT FORBIDDEN P! Fear the P! Love the P!