Chapitre 568: Chapter 568: The Spectators
Since ancient times, the sky has been a place of yearning for humanity.
For ordinary people, the official beginning of venturing into the sky was in 1903, when the Wright brothers invented the airplane.
For the world of mysteries, this history dates back much further. Excluding those with innate flying abilities or those who use flight magic, the earliest (in the Type-Moon universe) and oldest flying craft recorded would be the Vimana from the Ramayana and the Mahabharata (the golden ship owned by Gilgamesh).
Additionally, there are many other flying crafts steeped in mystery, such as the Sun Boat used by the Egyptian sun god Ra to carry the resurrected pharaohs, the celestial boat Maanna used by Ishtar in Babylonian mythology, and the slender flying craft hovering over Romania.
Though described as slender, this is merely in comparison to the size of other flying crafts. By modern standards, it is a broad wooden flying platform. Many parts of the platform are engraved with runes, arrays, and crests, designs, and principles completely different from modern magic. Undoubtedly, this is a very ancient flying craft, with a history tracing back to the Age of Gods.
In the center of the flying platform, dozens of magi are neatly lined up in teams, each emanating a powerful aura that only top-tier magi can perceive.
The magi all wear a special emblem on their chests. Although the emblem is merely a common metal item without any inherent mystery, what it represents is something few in the mystical world would dare to underestimate.
This is one of the most elite armed forces of the Clock Tower, the headquarters of the Mage's Association. The oldest classroom, the Secret Judgment Division, Carillon Observatory— the Executors.
Their routine task is to carry out Sealing Designation on targets specified by the Carillon Observatory. In major events involving many parties, they also perform top-secret missions, such as skirmishing with their old enemies, the Holy Church, or executing the current mission of recovering the Greater Grail.
The crystallized culmination of the Third Magic, the doorway to the Root— either one is something the Clock Tower, which sees itself as the orthodox authority of the magical world, is determined to obtain at any cost. Especially now that the two are combined.
Through a special technique built into the flying craft, even from ten kilometers away, the Executors can observe the general situation in the garden and witness the epic battle between the giant Golem and the Hydra.
Ordinary modern magi would have been terrified to the point of trembling at such a cataclysmic scene. But not the Executors. They are the ace unit of the Clock Tower, with every member being at least a top-tier battle magus, including some capable of fighting Servants.
Especially the lady in men's clothing standing at the front of the group, leading the team. She was already rubbing her hands together, eager to jump into action.
Her companions, accustomed to her behavior, calmly said:
"Calm down. The order is to recover the Greater Grail after the war ends. It's not our time to act yet."
"There are a dozen or so Servants gathered there now, along with those monsters. If we fought, we wouldn't stand a chance. Our target is only the magi of the Yggdmillennia clan."
"Exactly, Servants are just too game-breaking. Letting these ancient heroes appear in the modern era where mystery has declined is simply unfair."
"I wonder how the Einzberns managed to create such a terrifying system? Thanks to them, the influence of the Clock Tower is weakening, and we are busier than ever."
"We still have it relatively easy. The Church is even worse off, with saints appearing now and then. This time, the overseer they sent went rogue, giving the Clock Tower leverage and forcing them to abandon the competition for the Greater Grail. Without that, we'd have to face the Executors again, making our task even harder."
"Hehe—"
Just as the Executors were chatting and watching the battle while complaining about their leader, a crisp laugh suddenly rang out.
"Who?"
"Who's there?!"
The Executors' expressions changed instantly.
On the flying ship, there were various protective barriers. These combat experts had not relaxed their vigilance. The fact that someone could approach them undetected under such circumstances indicated that this person was extremely terrifying.
The Executors moved at the fastest speed, and the flying platform was instantly filled with various magical fluctuations. However, even so, they could not locate the source of the voice.
"No need to be so tense. I'm not so petty as to bother with you little ones. If I wanted to cause you trouble, you'd already be dead or worse."
After saying this, the speaker finally appeared, right in the middle of the Executors' formation, at their most vulnerable point.
She was a very beautiful girl. She looked about thirteen or fourteen years old, with snow-white skin and long black hair cascading down to her waist. Her delicate nose and exquisite mouth were complemented by a pair of lively red eyes, exuding a pure yet fragile aura that made one feel protective and unwilling to desecrate her.
Such a scene, no matter where it appeared, should be as beautiful as a painting. However, seeing this scene, the lady in men's clothing felt a lethal threat and instinctively clenched her fists.
"We are the Executors of the Clock Tower. Identify yourself and state your purpose!"
Hearing this question, the girl sighed: "Humans these days, I just took a nap, and I've been forgotten."
At this moment, someone finally remembered something: "You, you are the Eclipse Princess of Black Blood?"
Hearing this name, all the Executors gasped.
"Hehe, good day, Executors of the Clock Tower."
The girl blossomed into a pure and beautiful smile, lifted her skirt, and performed a lady's courtesy.
"I am Altrouge Brunestud."
"P-Princess, what brings you here this time…"
Someone asked tremblingly. They couldn't be blamed for being so flustered; her power and influence were simply too terrifying.
She was the Ninth of the Twenty-seven Dead Apostle Ancestors, the daughter of the original True Ancestor Crimson Moon, the Black Princess, and a contender for dominance over the Dead Apostle world against the nominal Dead Apostle King, Ortenrosse.
She was surrounded by a large number of powerful Dead Apostles. The Sixth Ancestor Rizo-Waal Strout and the Eighth Ancestor Fina-blood Svelten were her guards. Primate Murder(Fou) was her pet. The Thirteenth Ancestor TATARI was her servant (though few knew this).
Including herself, each one of them was capable of single-handedly defeating a Servant, even top-tier ones. While the Executors were formidable, they were nothing compared to her.
"Why you are here is why I am here."
"!!!"
"Humans, out of respect for a certain elder, I'll give you a piece of advice—this is not something you can involve yourselves in. Stay here and go nowhere, or else not only will you die, but this precious Ark might also be destroyed. This is probably one of the last remaining flying crafts from the Age of Myths. Rather than destroying it due to your rash actions, it would be better to add it to my collection."
"But, but—"
"Enough. I didn't ask for your opinion, and you have no right to refuse."
Her crimson eyes suddenly turned golden, and her aura changed as well. The previous frail purity vanished, replaced by an overwhelming pressure, like that of a deity high above.
In an instant, all the Executors felt an invisible pressure, making it hard to breathe. They wanted to resist but found they couldn't even move a finger.
"Mystic Eyes...?"
"You can still speak? Not bad."
The lady in men's clothing said with difficulty. The girl glanced at her with slight surprise. Her black hair gradually turned golden, and the pressure she emitted grew heavier.
With a thud, one of the Executors couldn't withstand the pressure, foamed at the mouth, and fainted.
Soon, the second, the third... more and more fell, increasingly densely.
In the end, only the lady in men's clothing was still struggling to hold on.
"Not bad, not bad. I'm becoming more and more interested in you. You must come from a very ancient family—who is your ancestor? Oh, no need to answer, I'll find out myself."
As the girl spoke, she extended a finger to the neck of the lady in men's clothing—she was an ancient Dead Apostle who could easily extract information from human blood.
However, before her finger could reach the lady's blood, the girl suddenly stopped, frowning and looking to the side.
Another person had appeared on the Ark at some point, a short-haired woman who bore some resemblance to the girl but looked more mature.
Upon seeing this woman, the girl showed clear disgust.
"You've come too, my unlovable sister."
From their appearances, it was obvious that the short-haired woman was the elder sister, while the girl, currently with golden hair, was the younger sister. But considering the girl was a Dead Apostle, the usual logic didn't apply.
The short-haired woman said nothing, staring expressionlessly at her sister's outstretched hand.
The girl maintained her posture, her hand still on the lady's neck, and turned her head to look at her sister, unmoving.
The two sisters were at an impasse.
After a while, the elder sister seemed to concede, withdrawing her hand and sighing helplessly.
"Alright, alright, I get it. I won't drink her blood. It's been so many years, and you're still sticking to that ridiculous duty? The old guys who instilled that duty in you are either dead or in eternal slumber. Is it really necessary?"
The younger sister still did not speak. Without any visible action, the invisible pressure binding the lady in men's clothing disappeared.
The lady moved her body and hesitated for a moment before saying, "Thank you."
The short-haired woman remained indifferent, standing in her original position like a statue.
"You don't need to say anything to her. Although she understands, she won't respond. Apart from completing her tasks, she has almost no extra emotions. She saved you only because her task was to hunt Dead Apostles. If not for the fact that we have the same target this time, she would probably have started hunting me by now. My current immature state is directly caused by her. In any case, just observe from here and don't interfere. Report everything you see to those stubborn old men when you get back. I guarantee in the name of Crimson Moon that no one will blame you—if you're still worried, then wait until this is over and come with me directly. You have great potential, and if you become my direct Dead Apostle, you could quickly become one of the new Twenty-Seven Ancestors—think it over carefully."
The girl hurriedly changed her tone halfway through, as her sister's eyes glanced over again.
"Mother is something, making me do this task with her when I could have just come with Big White…"
"You know the reason, don't you? Black Princess—Imaginary Number is similar to the Third Magic. If the situation deteriorates to the worst, White Princess' power will be indispensable."
A man's voice echoed on the platform. Apart from the lady in men's clothing, whose brain was nearing shutdown, neither of the princesses showed any surprise, clearly aware of his presence.
"Eavesdropping on ladies' conversations is hardly gentlemanly behavior."
"This is indeed quite rude, though I'm not a gentleman, just a Counter Guardian without even a name."
Shifting light and shadows outlined the figure of a man in a red tight suit, over 185 cm tall, with dark skin and white hair, bearing a slight resemblance to Amakusa Shirou Tokisada in the deepest part of the garden.
The man didn't appear alone; with him was another figure, cloaked in red, obscuring their appearance. Judging by the exposed bullets and firearms, this seemed to be a Counter Guardian that came from modern times.
The Black Princess glanced at the two, a clear look of displeasure on her face.
"Red Archer and Assassin... why is it you two again? Are there no other Counter Guardians?"
The tall man, the Red Archer, shrugged helplessly: "I don't know how many Counter Guardians there are. All we can do is follow orders and complete the mission."
"That sounds so pathetic. Why not come to my mother's side? The treatment is better than where you are."
The Red Archer shook his head: "It's all the same, there's no fundamental difference, and besides, we are still humans."
"But you live on this planet..."
Saying this, the Black Princess also shook her head, "Forget it, arguing about this is endless. By the way, is it just you two? Although it's a cooperation, cooperation should be based on equality. The two of you together barely match me, but what about my pathetic sister? How do you plan to balance that?"
"You don't need to worry about that. He should be arriving soon."
Just as the Red Archer finished speaking, a ripple, like that caused by a stone thrown into a still pond, appeared in front of him.
From the ripple emerged a man in a white robe, with dark skin and long white hair.
"Sorry, I'm late."
Seeing this man, the Black Princess showed a surprised expression for the first time.
"This feeling... I see, so it's you, King of Magecraft. Indeed, for handling the aftermath, besides Imaginary Number, you, the greatest of magus, one of the Grand Seven Servant, Grand Caster, are the most suitable!"
"Don't be so quick to conclude, Black Vampire Princess. We are just the final insurance. What will happen still depends on the choices of the Watcher favored by the two great Counter Forces."
The man titled King of Magecraft smiled gently, devoid of the aura expected of a king.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone