บท 1707: 21
The other Servants left, to do who knows what, leaving me and Artoria alone. I'm standing awkwardly, while Artoria is still in her seat, eyes focused on me. No getting out of this, then.
"Master. You died in the prior battle, did you not?"
"I did, yes."
Her green eyes hold mine, face grim.
"And was this intended? Some strategy you did not tell m- us?"
"No. Well, kind of? I knew I could resurrect, but I didn't plan on actually using it."
"So the knowledge of your resurrection made you take a risk you otherwise would not have, leading to your temporary demise?"
"That's about it."
"Did you know for certain your resurrection would work against Karna's Divinity? Or was the risk a gamble. Answer truthfully."
"It was night-time; Given Karna's divine link to the sun, I was confident I wouldn't die to anything less than Karna's secret Noble Phantasm, and I already had a plan for that specifically."
"Confident. Not certain."
I'm about to speak in my defence, but her palm cuts me off as she raises her hand to stop me speaking.
"Master. You gambled with the entire fate of this Faction and, it seems, the world itself. Was this gamble unavoidable?"
I'm about to say yes, that it was only thanks to my bite landing at the very start that Karna disappeared when he did, allowing us to begin to take Red apart piece by piece but. But. But that's only because I wanted to pay off the Loan as fast as I could, like I'd planned before we knew of Fafnir. If I had gone all out against Karna from the start, using my Swordplay to it's utmost rather than trying to bite and delay, I likely could have defeated Karna far earlier. And from there, I could have fought Fafnir while Artoria could have moved to help Atalanta and Fran and Astolfo before they got overwhelmed. Ditto if I'd actually leveraged my speed advantage to attack, rather than being entirely defensive after the bite had landed. Hell, I could have used my guaranteed first strike, combined with Reid and Swordplay, to instantly eliminate Fafnir-Shirou in the opening seconds and have ended the battle right there. Instead, I'd let myself get caught up in my own outdated plan and my opponent's tempo.
With her gaze on me, almost compelling me to tell the truth, I shake my head. No, I could have avoided the gamble fairly easily. My ears burn from her words back in our first sparring session, about the danger of my reactivity.
For her part, Artoria's eyes close and she lets out a sigh.
"I thought so. Your first instinct in the battle was simply to slightly alter the plan we had crafted, even though the situation was completely different with the addition of Fafnir. Your inexperience makes these understandable mistakes, but understandable and excusable are not the same."
"I…yes. Of course."
"Very good. Now that the War is over and we are in a time of relative peace, I will take it upon myself to attempt to correct your inexperience in such matters."
I nod, before something strikes me.
"Does anyone else know? About my death? Semiramis apparently saw it, but I don't know about the others."
"Atalanta did not feel your true death but, by her own words, when you avoided Karna's Noble Phantasm her altered mind believed you to have died when your connection to her cut off, causing her to lash out at Achilles in rage. None of the other Servants indicated they noticed, being otherwise occupied with their own battles."
Well. That's…something I suppose. I'll need to talk with Atalanta, both to clarify her current state as well as discussing this.
"I guess from Atalanta's perspective, my death would have been the end of her Wish. No wonder she lost it."
Artoria's gaze flicks down towards her hands, now resting on the top of the table, clasped tightly together.
"I do not feel it was simply that. I believe she felt true grief and loss at your apparent death. Or at least, those are the feelings your death invoked in me, if only in that single moment you were gone."
Her reply, faint and quiet, catches me off-balance. Rather than reply, I take a seat next to her and reach out, grasping her hands and holding them. Her face turns to mine and ours meet as we sit there for several moments before, blushing, she stands and moves to turn away.
"Artoria, anything you'd like for lunch? Before the battle, you said you wanted a victory feast, and I could probably have something ready by midday."
She doesn't turn, but I don't need her to be able to know her expression or feel her emotions.
"I am confident I will enjoy whatever you make Master. And I am not simply saying that so as to not trouble you."
-
While I found palace's kitchen easily enough, with my instinctive knowledge of the building despite not having designed it, actually creating a victory feast for everyone who would be there takes me some time. Preparing meat for Mordred, apples for Atalanta, vegetarian food for Fran, and even bitter dark chocolate for Semiramis mean I'm bouncing around the large kitchen for hours, but the result is something I could never have made before this. Heck, just for personal amusement I tried my hand at preparing some fugu, my blessing granting me mastery of all cooking methods letting me remove the tetrodotoxin from the pufferfish instinctually.
Next up inviting everyone to the feast. Semiramis is easy enough to find- her room is in the top of the main tower, but after she gets over her shock at the idea of my having cooked for the Servants, she elects to eat alone which I find disappointing but not surprising. At least the other Servants, Jeanne included, all accept. Still, it wasn't just for them; I'd also made some sandwiches for the other non-Servant members of White. Kairi accepts the food happily, but I find the two Yggdmillennia siblings talking with Pemetrekis in Trifas, the city quiet and streets clear except for the Association's magi and the homunculi of Yggdmillennia. The three stand when they notice me, and move to bow, but I stop that.
"Don't bother with that. I'm just here to offer you some lunch, an offer I'd like you to relay to your homunculi and, if you'd like, some advice."
"An offer, Sir Astrea?"
Fiore responds, looking quizzical.
"Right. I didn't get the chance to say this back then, but I'd like to make my offer to the homunculi as well; it would cure them of their limited lifespans, and after that they could go on and do whatever they wanted. Though I'll make clear that this is entirely voluntarily on their part."
"Can homunculi even make such a decision on their part?"
"Despite their creation they are, or at the very least can easily become people. My…vision of this War had the escaped homunculus play a major role of his own volition."
Caules doesn't seem entirely convinced, but Fiore nods.
"We'll convey your offer. And your advice?"
"If you're going back to the Clock Tower, I'd recommend Waver- sorry, Lord El-Melloi II's class. From what I've seen of him he's a rare mix of exceptionally competent and moral. You'd both probably do well there."
Which reminds me- I turn to Pemetrekis, who has been keeping her head down this whole time.
"Speaking of- I need to pay the Clock Tower a visit in a day or two, but I don't have any paperwork or anything. Could you help me with that, please?"
Hearing my intentions to 'visit' the Clock Tower causes her eyes to widen, and I can feel her panic. I speak quickly, to clarify.
"Not to cause problems. There's an academic question I need answered."
Fiore speaks up.
"Is it on the topic of Quantum Time Locks and Parallel Worlds?"
I smile and nod.
"Yeah. I need to check some stuff regarding this War and the Grail Wish, and the Clock Tower is my only real lead, other than Atlas, but-"
Bringing up Atlas causes all three magi to give me this look, cutting me off and leaving the conversation dangling. Eventually, Pemetrekis carefully meets my gaze and nods once.
"I'll do my best to assist you in this matter."
-
Which is how, three days later I'm no longer on mainland Europe, having crossed the channel accompanied by Pemetrekis and Artoria, armor gone in favour of a blue formal, almost-military uniform. I'd only gone with one Servant directly accompanying me, an attempt to show I wanted to talk rather than fight. That, and I could call my other Servants to me instantly with my Command Seals or Portals if the need wasn't immediate.
Back in Trifas, Pemetrekis had asked for a day to contact the Clock Tower, and then the next day let us know that she had tickets booked for a flight from the nearby Târgu Mureș Airport to Britain later that evening. Honestly, the fact that this took some time to organize was a blessing- I had at least tried to get Semiramis more comfortable with the group, did some preliminary sparring with Artoria and Mordred (who had volunteered to join us), talked with Atalanta as she scoped out the terrain of the beach while making suggestions regarding the island and, separately, her Wish, and finally helped Jeanne with Laeticia's homework, putting Reinhard's teaching blessings and my own experience as a part-time tutor to use. Not to mention cooking meals for everyone, including the non-Servant members of White, while binding the homunculi who did take up my offer.
Pemetrekis waves us throw the mundane security of Heathrow Airport, bypassing all the scans and guards with a wave of her hands. Personally, I'm a little disappointed that rather than catching the Heathrow Express to Padington and taking a stoll through London, a sleek black car is waiting to whisk us off towards the British Museum, cutting by Hyde Park and up through Covent Gardens. London was a city I'd only visited three times back before all this, and I'd enjoyed every one of my visits, so just driving through it quickly was unfortunate.
As I step out of the car, the first thing I notice is the immense bubble of magic surrounding the British Museum. The defences on Fortress of Millennia had seemed impressive, but from the looks of things a single brick here would be more protected than the whole castle. As I turn away from the building and towards Pemetrekis and Artoria, both also emerging from the car, I feel a wave of mana spread down the street, but as the mana touches Artoria it fizzles, the entire structure of whatever spell was being used falling to pieces. Both our gazes turn towards Pemetrekis, Artoria's eyebrow raised in query as her hand lightly dances on the hilt of her invisible sword. The magus moves to speak, but a voice cuts her off. It must belong to someone she recognizes, because her eyes widen and she bows low, tilting a full 90 degrees, past us towards the speaker.
Artoria and I turn, and find an old man with long, white hair and gold-rim glasses in a black suit. Around his neck was a large red gem, and his hands on each wrinkled finger are rings covered in small jewels. He raises one hand from his cane and gestures once towards Pemetrekis, who I sense bow even lower and then retreat, in that way that one does when they want to flee but know that doing so would make things worse.
When she's gone, only then does he finally speak. His voice is so dry I'm at first not sure he's even alive and not some animated corpse speaking with a desiccated tongue.
"I see that…the reports were not…as exaggerated as I had thought."
There's a weird cadence to his speech, where he stops and starts at almost random intervals. Artoria, meanwhile, says nothing but her fingers no longer dance lightly on the pommel and instead rests around the hilt, clearly poised for violence. Even I can tell he's someone to not be trifled with- he isn't the glowing threat of Karna, but I can sense power in each and every one of the gems on his body. Seemingly unconcerned with our silence, he continues to speak in his faltering manner, eyes entirely fixed on Artoria.
"To see…such a spirit summoned…in the flesh, as it were. Truly remarkable."
A dark little grin graces his mouth but is gone so quickly it seems like a trick of the light.
"I suppose I…will need to apologise…for my treatment of those failed…Masters."
Just the tone of his voice makes it clear he'll be doing no such thing. But I've had enough of this cryptic business, and so speak.
"I'm sorry, but you have us at a disadvantage. You seem to know something about us, but I'm afraid I don't know your name."
A single dusty laugh emerges from his mouth.
"Oh…I forgot my manners. I hope you forgive…me. It's been an age since I…last had to introduce myself to…anyone. My name is Rufleus Nuada-Re Eulyphis, though…I am more commonly called Lord Eulyphis of…the Department of Spiritual Evocation. As a…specialist on spirits…the task of greeting you fell to me. Though…perhaps the Department of Zoology would have…been more appropriate."
I'm unsure if that was a dig at my draconic nature or a comment on how Artoria isn't actually a spirit, but in any case I'll ignore it. I didn't know this man, but if he was a Clocktower Lord then he was one of the twelve heads of the Clocktower. Which, I suppose, at least meant they were taking this seriously.
"Thank you. I'm Reinhard van Astrea, and this is Saber. We appreciate a Lord taking the time to welcome us."
Another deathrattle-laugh.
"No trouble at all. I am…delighted to welcome the interloper who…brought that renegade family back…into the fold. And who even personally slew…that traitorous Grand if my reports are accurate."
"If you mean Darnic, then yeah I did. Though I'm surprised that's your focus."
"Why…would it not be? Grail Wars may come and go…the dead may be summoned to fight…but what matters is that the Clock Tower…stands united. Threats to that are…what truly matter. We must all work to ensure…the stability of the world of magecraft."
I'm not sure how to respond, when for the first time Artoria's voice cuts in.
"Stability above all is an understandable desire for a leader, but an abandonment of all other responsibilities to ensure 'stability' is itself irresponsible."
There's silence, and the old man cocks his head, as if unused to being spoken to in such a manner. Eventually, though, he dips his head once and speaks.
"I will take your words under…advisement, King of Knights. Truth be told…I had not thought much of…that eastern ceremony but if it can produce…beings such as you then perhaps it holds…more value than I assumed."
He taps his cane lightly on the ground, and mana flows from the impact point, curving around where we're standing to cover the streets on either side of the road. As each pedestrian touches the wave of mana, there's a flicker as they seem to disappear, but a closer examination shows that they're still there, just out of step with time. Behind me, there's a click as a stone facade of the museum begins to draw away, a dark pathway into the earth.
"I suppose as one of the twelve Lords…I may welcome you to the Clock Tower. We will do…our utmost to accommodate you in your…brief stay here."
Rufleus raises a single finger and the gems on that ring glowed as their power is invoked. And like that, the old man disappears. Well then. I guess that's that. I move to step forward into the newly opened path, when-
'Hey, Master. You got to London alright?'
Mordred's telepathic voice cuts in.
'Yep. Just about to enter the Clock Tower.'
'Could you pull up a portal? I wanna take Berseker on a tour of London- that witch is brooding in her tower, the Saint and that crazy knight are hogging the beach and now that you've left Atalanta won't step away from the Grail even for a moment. We're bored as hell, so I thought I could show her my old stomping grounds.'
'You promise to be on your best behaviour?'
'Sure, sure. We'll be good.'
Mordred's casual reply makes me worry, but I decide to put my trust in the pair. I kneel down, placing my hands on the ground and pulling up a portal, and Mordred and Fran spring forth as if from the earth. Thankfully, neither are in armor- Mordred is in a black suit with red accents, while Fran has an fancy white wide-brim hat laden with flowers, covering the metal on her head. They'll still both stick out, but not in an obviously supernatural way. Mordred gives me a grin, which I meet with a small smile, and nods in thanks before grabbing Fran's hand and pulling her away.
-
The Clock Tower, for all its mystique and mystery, is quick to remind me of a mundane university campus. There's dorms, and classrooms, libraries and professorial offices. Heck, I even spot what looks to be a uni cafeteria near the central garden. My ears pick up students just…chatting about assignments they have for class, some complaining about the workload and some humble-bragging about already being done with the bits others were complaining about. There's some general speculation about why all the classes were cancelled, and I even pick out one or two pieces of gossip relating to the Grail War and its aftermath.
Our guide, a small and bespectacled man, silently walks the pair us down a corridor, windows to our left, and up to a wooden door with a simple, bronze nameplate, with the name of the person I'd asked to see written on it. The guide bows, and then takes two steps back, leaving me to rap on the door.
"It's unlocked, so come in."
And into the office of Waver Velvet, or rather Lord El-Melloi II I go. I hold the door open for Artoria, wait for a moment to see if our guide needs to join the conversation, and when it's clear they're not planning on sticking around or joining, shut the door.
"I'm not sure why you had to pick me of all people to be your contact, and my hands were already full with my own matters, so let's get this over with. You don't seem to have the foggiest how many headaches this whole thing has caused."
Waver's looking about as I expected from my memory of the Case Files anime, long black hair framing a haggard and lined face. He's sitting behind his desk, taking one last look at the papers there, before standing, taking one last drag of his cigar before moving to the table in the middle of the room. He takes a seat in one of the chairs facing the table, his tall and thin body seeming to fold in on itself, and I take the seat opposite. Artoria moves to stand behind me, but I pat the seat next to me and she also takes a seat. Despite how tired he looks, Waver's eyes are bright as they glance between Artoria and myself.
And, what's more, there's no reaction to Artoria's face. As I had suspected.
"There's a lot of diplomacy I'm supposed to do, but I'll cut to the chase. We want you out of our hair as soon as possible. What can we give you to make that happen?"
I give him a small smile. I can appreciate him getting straight to the point.
"Ok. Right to the point. Firstly, I'd like to check the Clock Tower's records in regard to Quantum Time Locks. I'd also like to speak to one Professor Lev in private. Thirdly, I'd like a guarantee that the survivors of Yggdmillennia aren't pursued or otherwise attacked for Darnic's actions, and that they'll be able to return to the Clock Tower unmolested if that's what they want. Oh, and finally I'd like to be able to travel around Britain for a few days; specifically, I want to visit Blackmore, and some of my companions are in London as tourists."
Waver leans back in his chair, eyes still on me.
"That's quite the varied list of demands. I don't suppose you'd tell me how they all relate?"
Well, it isn't like I'm hiding much.
"The first is because I'm the victor of the Grail War and want to make a Wish, but I also need to make sure the Wish won't cause problems. The second is secret, but it's a contingency to keep the world safe. The third is because it's the right thing to do, and the last is a personal matter."
Waver's about to say something when I hear a scratching sound from the door, and I turn my head towards it. Artoria's already facing it, fingers again tapping Excalibur's pommel. Waver cuts off his reply when he sees the two of us looking at the door and gives a deep, long sigh of suffering and regret. Quietly, he stands from his seat, walks to the wall of the room, and then follows the wall along until he reaches the door, all he while keeping himself out of sight of the door. Still soundlessly he touches the door, and then yanks it open in a single movement. Two blonde gangly teenagers fall into the room, having obviously been resting their weight on the door to listen in.
The pair pick themselves up, letting out sheepish laughs as Waver looms over them. I can't see his expression, but the grins on the boys' faces fade as they look up at Waver. Still silent, Waver points left, and two retreat in the direction he pointed. Once he's sure they've gone he closes the door, heaves another sigh, then turns back to us while leaning against the door.
"Those damn kids…Anyway, to begin with the department of Archaeology isn't located in the main campus; I'll have to get someone to take you to Rocks Road to meet Professor Lev. As for your Quantum Time Locks, I'll see who I can rope into dredging the archives. Any idea what department that would fall under?"
I give a shrug.
"I don't know what the departments even are. Quantum Time Locks are about adjacent and parallel worlds, so-"
"Fuck! I knew this wasn't going to be that simple! Why are you dragging me into the Wizard Marshal's business? Why specify me instead of Spiritual Evocation, or anyone more appropriate?"
Waver's pointing at me now with his still-smouldering cigarette, a look of sudden frustration on his face.
"Because out of everyone I know of at the Clock Tower, you're the one I trust the most?"
"I've never even met you!" Waver half-whines, voice shifting to a higher pitch.
"I'm not sure if you got the reports from Romania, but I guess you could say I'm something of a precog. I know you care for your students, you have regrets about Kayneth, that Isakander ordered you, as his subject, to survive-"
When I bring up his Servant's name, Waver's face goes pale and his eyes flick to his desk before landing back on me and making a slashing motion with his free hand to cut me off.
"Fine. I'll see if I can find someone to dig up what notes we have from the Wizard Marshal, but I'm not promising anything at all. While that's happening, someone can take you to Professor Lev and then you can do your traveling."
'So you can leave as fast as possible' is unsaid but obvious. I begin to stand, Artoria standing with me, when Waver speaks again.
"I also have to ask you- what do you plan on doing with the Grail when you've made your Wish. We planned on taking it for safekeeping when we won, but-"
I shake my head. The Association had thus far been reasonable, but I wasn't about to hand them the possibility to run more Grail Wars after I left and to do whatever they pleased with those Wishes. I was putting in the effort to avoid monkey's pawing my way into omnicide, but who knew with magi?
"Sorry. I have my own plans for the Grail even after the Wish is made. If it makes you feel better, I won't be leaving it lying around for anyone to trip over."
I don't bring up how my plan for the Grail will put an end to any more true Grail Wars, taking an axe to Waver's chance of his reunion with Iskander. Though, honestly, I was never the biggest fan of the King of Conquerors- he was better than Gilgamesh, sure, but that doesn't exactly say much.
Waver looks to me, opens his mouth like he's about to say something, stops, and then gives a tired nod that ends the topic.
-
The Clock Tower seems to act with all speed to get me out of the branch campus, a car and driver already found by the time we leave the wing Waver's office was in, read to take us to the coastal town of Rocks Road, an hour or so south of London. There's nothing special about the drive itself, other than the fact I can feel a little of Artoria's frustration at being forced to be passenger for the trip. I'd volunteered to handle the transportation, but that offer had been politely but firmly turned down. If I was visiting Clock Tower land, I would travel there with the 'assistance' and the accompanying observers of the Association. During the trip, I telepathically fill Artoria in on what I remember of Lev and why I wanted to 'visit' him, which leads me into describing the plot of FGO as I picked up from animes and osmosis and fanfics. That turns into its own rabbit hole, but at least it keeps us occupied on the drive.
Finally, we arrive, the car pulling up in front of a large mansion the size of a small castle. I'd likely have been more impressed a few days ago, but after having seen the Hanging Gardens, and then having lived in Semiramis' mansion-castle, my sense of scale is still out of whack. From there, our driver hands over a letter to the doorman, who reads the letter and then hands us off to an attractive woman inside the building. She reads the note, lets out an almost-imperceptible groan, and then leads us up to a large office, whose sole occupant is a familiar-looking man with spectacular sideburns, hunched over his desk in a manner that can't be good for his back. My guide quickly places the letter on Lev's desk and departs and I enter the office, Artoria remaining outside as a guard of sorts.
Target acquired. Now it becomes a question of if I can diplomance this, or if I'll have to burn Clock Tower goodwill by forcing the issue.
Lev doesn't even bother to skim the paper and, skipping all pleasantries, looks up at me.
"What d'ya want? I thought I made it clear to everyone I don't want any external affairs- I'm only supposed to have to deal with this nonsense on the last four hours of the last day of each month, and even that's too much time to waste on this. I stayed at the Clock Tower to have unbridled freedom of research, and yet they're forcing me to meet with you, contrary to what was advertised. This better be important."
He's…not what I expected. From my memories of the First Order had Lev as impeccably polite and well-mannered, or at least that was the mask Flauros put on Lev's body after the possession; I suppose pre-possession, Lev could have been less social.
"That letter probably tells you something about who I am but, in brief, I've seen you accomplish some spectacular things in the future, working with the Animuspheres in particular. I wanted to help you achieve that."
Lev's gaze seem to sharpen, something about my words sparking his interest.
"The Astronomy department, you say…What was I working on? Speak quickly."
I stop and wrack my brains. What did Lev do in Chaldea again? I think it was-
"Something about a mystic code designed to monitor both future and past to guard the present?"
"The past, future, and present huh… Well, ain't that something. I can see how that might be in my wheelhouse, but how can you help me with that?"
"I don't know the first thing about formal magecraft or the like, so I can't help there. What I can do is…boost you, in effect. Increase your ability to process information relating to magic, extending your life while keeping you at peak physical condition with only minimal need-"
Lev cuts me off, shockingly animated for someone who, earlier, had been quick to dismiss me.
"I'll take it! A magus' life is so full, so much stuff ta do and I already gotta waste so much time napping and eating. The hours of work I could get done without those timesinks would be-"
He rambles on, but I don't bother trying to follow. Eventually, he stops his ranting about how he hates even the small daily chores of life like eating or sleeping or anything other than his research.
"Well, how are ya gonna do it? Do ya have a workshop or something I need to make an appointment for?"
I shake my head.
"Nope. If you're willing, then I just need a moment-"
And my Shroud engulfs him, binding him and then pulling away almost before he can process it, the procedure instantly catching with his lack of resistance. And with his binding comes another Capture, my true target, which I mentally sell the instant I confirm the identity of the parasite sitting inside Lev's Crest. Bye-bye Demon God Flauros, see you never. As I'm doing this I stand from my seat and nod towards Lev. He, meanwhile, remains seated, looking with shock at his hands as if there's some more internal change I missed. He doesn't seem to even notice me, as once his eyes tear away from his hands he grabs paper from his desk and begins to furiously write.
I wait for a few literal minutes, but as he pulls a second sheet of paper towards him and keeps writing, I shrug and excuse myself. From his office, I head back down to the Clocktower chauffeur, Artoria falls in behind me. I can't quite hold in my grin- even if basically no-one will know what actually happened, cutting off that potential threat felt…good. I move towards the car, our magus-turned-chauffeur already at the wheel, when I feel Mordred reaching out.
'All good on your end, Master? You seemed happier than usual for a bit.'
'Yeah, things went basically perfectly. One major potential-problem down.'
'Great. You can lend me some cash, right?'
Um… '...Sure. Why?'
'We found a bookstore, and something there caught Fran's eye. I said we should just buy it and tell you later, but she figured I should at least ask first.'
I wonder if it's another Milton. 'Of course. Any clue why she didn't ask?'
I can feel the telepathic shrug from Mordred. 'She didn't wanna bother you over something this small, is all.'
Well, I hope that I haven't been coming off as unapproachable to Fran, or any of the others. 'In any case, it's fine. You should be able to withdraw from my 'account' at will, and there should easily be enough there for books. Buy whatever you guys want.'
'Will do!'
-
Lord El-Melloi II leans back in his chair, letting out a sigh of relief in time with the rest of the Clock Tower as he feels their 'guest' depart.
"What is about me that keeps attracting monsters?"
"I hope you weren't talking about me, dear brother?"
Without warning, the door to his office opens and in strides Reines El-Melloi Archisorte, his 'younger sister', accompanied as always by her mercury golem Trimmau.
"Reines, you should prob-"
Before he can finish his sentence, Reines' eyes catch fire, sending her reeling back into the corridor away from his office, grasping her face. Trimmau already has Reines' eyedrops in hand and moves to assist it's master. Meanwhile, the room's owner finishes his sentence and stands up, pausing a moment to collect a small box from the top drawer of his desk.
"-ably not come in here."
As he leaves the office, he sees Reines, eyes red and blinking but no longer burning, as well as a few straggling students 'casually' looking at his office and the commotion. With yet another sigh, he shuts, locks and seals his door as much as his feeble abilities allow. Keeping the mana inside the room contained might be useful for analysis, but with the attention being drawn he can't help but feel he'll return to find his two 'top' students inside his office once again. Reines, meanwhile, has collected herself.
"Thank you, dear brother, for your warning. I guess he really was what the rumours say."
"Which set of rumours?" He glances around again, grimacing at the increasing gaggle of observers. "Let's move to a classroom. There should be at least some empty ones- most classes were cancelled to deal with this nonsense."
With that, he strides away, leaving Reines and Trimmau to follow. Eventually, he finds a suitably empty room and, when the three are inside, leans against it for a moment before looking around. The classroom is bigger than the ones at Norwich, with fifty or so students able to seat themselves in the fan-shaped room. Instinctively, his hand goes to where the switch for the heating system would be, but there's nothing there- the central Clock Tower slower to implement even basic science to keep the classrooms warm than Modern Magecraft Theories.
"Well, brother? What was our visitor? Surely, as a great detective, you worked that out."
There's a pause, as the Lord considers.
"He's the antithesis of a magus."
Reines' head tilts at that. It was clear those were not anything near the reply she'd expected. Regardless, her 'brother' continues on.
"He has no mystery at all."
"I hate to contradict the detective, but the reaction of my eyes seems to disagree."
Waver waves a hand dismissively.
"I said he has no mystery, not no mana. Magecraft comes from mystery, and mystery always has a basis, some underlying principle or philosophy that can be uncovered. But from the reports I've been forced to read and my meeting with him just now, his power has no such basis. It's as if someone cheated in a computer game, giving themselves infinite mana and maxed out stats."
His feet move by themselves as he speaks, and he's making notes on the blackboard before he even realizes it. Reines has taken a seat at the front of the class and is looking on questioningly. It's clear that even if she didn't grasp his metaphor, she at least understood the context.
"So, the Age of Gods, where magic could be done with no basis?"
Chalk taps once, twice, on the blackboard.
"We don't know enough about the Age of Gods to say for certain. Not enough evidence. But my gut is telling me no. I'll have to check-"
"Brother."
"Right. The only genuine thing I know about him is in regard to his Servants. The one I met is definitely real Servant, and his relationship with her seems to have some foundation. His reactions to the other Servants he called in also seemed earnest. And from his words, maybe it wasn't even a power move, and they really are just tourists. I should clarify that just because I'm saying his powers have no mystery doesn't make them not real. Though I'd guess, from the reports and having met him he's come into this power fairly recently, maybe even right before the Grail War."
"And what did you make of him as an individual?"
Her brother's back is to Reines, but she sees the chalk pressed between his fingers shatter, and wishes that she could make out the dark expression that surely must grace his face.
"I can't stand him. As a person who has a goal I want to achieve even if I have to risk my life, despite lacking the talent to achieve it, seeing someone who simply received such power is impossible to stomach. And that was before he casually attacked the goal I know he knows I have. I may love magecraft, but my capacities are beyond limited no matter my efforts. He has no regard for magecraft at all, but limitless capacity seems to have been given to him."
Notes:
Some timeskipping around this chapter, rather than the prior 'here's a chapter entirely about one day, here's a chapter entirely about one night, here's a chapter about ten minutes of action". With Apocrypha's required speed out of the way, I get to be more liberal in cutaway-travel.
No offer made to Waver because Rein knows Waver already has someone else he's bound to. I was gonna have the Clock Tower poke at Rein with a throwaway pawn (specifically Atrum, who felt the right blend of stupid and arrogant to be led into doing it with his actions in Case File 3 and towards Medea), but realized that they don't really have a reason. Their poking-to-see-if-danger-is-real is better accomplished by Rufleus just showing up at the start and gauging them, followed by Waver's talk. Going on to mess with the dragon and Servant team just because would be real dumb, and while the Clock Tower is on occasion fairly dumb, it generally isn't suicidally dumb. I could have done the same thing with some rogue magus, but honestly it didn't feel like there'd be a point- there would be no tension at all, and all it'd do is double-confirm what both the readers and the in-story characters know.
Next up is Blackmore. I was going to have that in this chapter, but even before Blackmore+Aftermath were complete that was looking to push the whole thing into the 12k+ word mark, leaving it rather unwieldy. Better to make use of the break between "Clock Tower stuff" and "Blackmore stuff", and have Blackmore as it's whole distinct chapter. The split might be while this chapter feels esp clunky, as there would have been an arc of sorts where the narrative rose up to the Blackmore peak, but as-is there's a lot of busywork that doesn't accomplish that much on it's own.
On the plus side, that does mean a significant part of the next chapter is already done, so it should be out in a week or so.
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