Lord El Melloi II Case Files

[Bonfire]

I was hoping Waver would barge in to give them some whooping again

[warellis]

Svin and Flat are pretty good.

Svin strikes me as someone who could really put his abilities to battle in general.

Also it's impressive that Atram can get everyone to stop just by appearing. A lot more dangerous than ufotable UBW would have you think it seems.

[asterism42]

Well that's not really his fault. Any modern mage is gonna look like a chump when you're comparing them to someone like Medea

[warellis]

Well that's not really his fault. Any modern mage is gonna look like a chump when you're comparing them to someone like Medea

Honestly he seemed mostly stupid in UBW. Especially with how pissy he got that Medea was so much better than him.

[mami-kouga]

A bit late, but vacation's over, so hopefully we'll be back on track for a bit.

Chapter 1 Part 3

Chapter 1


Part 3



-Flat Escardos.

The name of a young man, born in the Mediterranean, who had gathered the hopes and expectations of all sorts of people.

While the Escardos family itself was one with a long history, it had no particularly grand achievements to speak of. They had spent generations refining their magecraft and building up their Magic Circuits, but they had produced nothing beyond what could be described as mediocre - that was, until the birth of Flat, whose outstanding talent could be considered nothing less than an anomaly.

An excellent number of Magic Circuits, guided by an overwhelming talent.

Lauded as a prodigy, he was quickly sent off to the Clock Tower, but even that venerable institution couldn't match up to his potential. Beginning in the sub-faculty of Necromancy, he had been entrusted to Rock Belpheban, the head of the Faculty of Summoning. However, in only a few months, he had already transferred to a new faculty. With each faculty being unable to keep up with his talent, he rapidly moved between them, much to the vexation of his lecturers. His constant resubmission of his paperwork got to the point where he was on the verge of being expelled.

The reason was simple.

No matter how much his talent as a magus exceeded the ideal, no other attribute he had lent well toward the life of a magus.

His attitude was just too loose, he was often told.

In reality, what really forged the magus of the modern day was not a supernatural power or transcendent conscience, but a tenacity built and reinforced over generations. Clinging to a shadowed, intense ideology for hundreds, or in some cases even thousands of years, developed its own sort of extreme power. Even if science were to exceed magecraft in all other respects, as long as that ideal survived, magecraft itself would be ineradicable.

But, in that respect the boy was hopeless.

Really, it may have been due to his enormous talent rather than in spite of it. While the reason wasn't clear to those around him, it was at least obvious that the young man known as Flat Escardos lacked that key trait of persistence. Eternally lax, he would always invest himself in the business of others around him, yet as if he was a sponge he fully absorbed all the information presented in his classes, maintaining an almost perfect grade. In the worst cases, he would even interrupt his lecturers with a bright smile, adding his own tweaks and changes to improve the lecturer's own formula in the blink of an eye.

For a lecturer, there was no greater humiliation.

Like a flawless diamond set before them that needed not even a single cut. His talent was so extreme there was nothing they could do to develop his skill further, and as such he earned a wordless disdain from those around him. While the Clock Tower, which existed ostensibly to develop the talents of new magi, could ill afford to let such a talent go to waste, any instructor which tried to work with him found themselves driven away.

This situation persisted for about a year.

As a result, after being passed between different faculties and factions, as if bitterly letting go of a prized treasure, he was finally entrusted to the El-Melloi classroom. The classroom which had already taken on a number of problem children of the Clock Tower accepted him without reservation. Their ability to offer him guidance that led to easily recognizable growth drew all sorts of attention. In exchange, the pain it caused to the stomach of a certain Lord El-Melloi II was similarly devestating, but that was another story.

At any rate. Now, Flat was pursuing the magical energy of the attackers.

In the forest.

Having detected their magical energy from out on the hill, he had run off through the grass and into the forest after them. Despite the poorly maintained path, he travelled at a speed that would be difficult to match for a professional marathon runner. Of course, that was mostly thanks to his own Strengthening.

As he ran, he peered up at the dark clouds in the sky between the gaps in the foliage.

"Wow, that's amazing! Since the side effects of Weather Manipulation are pretty intense, you can basically never see it at the Clock Tower. Hmm...this person is being pretty inefficient about it though. They've got thirty one...thirty two people working together on this? But number seven and number twenty should probably be switched out. I should really let them know!"

With an honest brightness, he spoke those absurd words.

Just by listening to that, one might think he had nothing but good intentions. But it was those good intentions that had destroyed many Clock Tower lecturers. At this point, if one were to classify it as some new breed of curse, it was unlikely the claim would face much challenge.

This time, however, the chastising voice that answered him was born of a different purpose.

"...Flat."

"Whoa! You found me already!" Spinning around, Flat's eyes went wide.

Standing on a branch above him was the curly haired young man. Leaning against the trunk of the tree, he held a finger to the tip of nose as he looked down at his classmate with a dirty look.

Svin Glascheit.

Having joined barely a month before Flat, he was the most senior student currently active in the El-Melloi classroom. That being said, Lord El-Melloi II's policy was to let go of his students after they had surpassed the basics anyways, graduating them out one after another as if he was sick of looking after them.

"What do you mean, 'already'? There's no way I'd ever mistake your fluffy, frivolously yellow scent. Now come on, let's get back to the profesor."

"Oh come on!" Flat complained, as if he was a child being told it was time to leave the toy store.

"...you'd rather I brought you back by force, then?"

"Whoa whoa whoa, hold on! Think about this, Le Chien! The professor's in trouble right now, right?"

"And you're just adding to the problem!"

"Not at all!" Flat waved a hand dismissively, laughing with a smile. "The professor's going to be happy about this!"

"...what?" Svin frowned.

"The Iselma family took Trim, right? So if we go beat up the guys attacking Iselma, they might give Trim back out of gratitude! And the professor will rain thanks on us too! It's a perfect plan, don't you think, Le Chien?"

Rather than being perfect, it was the sort of plan that deserved to be struck down immediately. It was like after seeing a trap hole before them, they were politely throwing a bunch of poisoned blades into it before jumping in.

But,

"First of all, stop calling me that," Svin said.

For a time, he was quiet. It was the kind of silence that would drive the Lord El-Melloi II straight to massaging his stomach were he around to witness it. Because rather than the quiet of things calming down, it was more like the calm before an awful storm.

"They were the people that tried to hurt my G...tried to hurt Gray," he muttered. At long last, scratching his head and licking his lips, he continued.

"Alright, I'm in."


**********


In the middle of the forest, a number of shadows ran through the thick undergrowth.

Pushing through the waist-high growth with their own bodies, they rushed on towards the Twin Towers of Iselma. With their unwavering course and with their entire lack of regard for the uncertain footing and dense ivy growth threatening to trip them up, had it been a few generations earlier, they might have been described as a march of demons.

One of the figures raised their head.

In the open space before them stood a well-dressed man with a cane.

"...Lord Byron."

"Most impressive. Making the elements themselves your ally. While this area is particularly susceptible to changing weather, I've never been faced with someone capable of such a brilliant display."

At once, the gentleman assessed the levels of the invaders.

For modern magi, how difficult was that magecraft - or perhaps, regardless of difficulty, how possible was it? In a battle between magi, the most critical skill was the ability to see through to the nature of the opponent's favored formulas. Faithfulness to the basics, following an unwavering history, Lord Byron walked a path that was tried and true.

"...if you understand that much, how about just giving us what we want?" One of the intruders said with a playful lilt, as if their objective was explicitly clear from the start.

But.

The gentleman before them responded with a fearless smile.

"If you think Iselma is defenseless, I'm afraid you are quite mistaken."

Byron stuck his cane into the ground. As he did so, a flurry of globes appeared around him. The clearing rapidly filled with a cloud of bubbles, reflecting the mottled light of the setting sun peering through the leaves in a breathtaking display.

It's true nature was, of course, nothing so benign. Heedless of the air currents in the forest, the bubbles filled with Byron's magical energy moved unnaturally to surround the intruding magi. As the soapy surfaces spun, the bubbles reflected the image of the invaders.

Without a word, the intruders watched the bubbles.

None of them were foolish enough to carelessly break the bubbles before them. That was of course the very lowest level of prudence required of a magus.

But that meant those countless bubbles were able to spread out unchallenged, rapidly surrounding the intruders and cutting off their means of escape.

"What do you think of the Rainbow Spheres of Iselma?"

Was that the name of the spell that Byron had just whispered?

With a snap, the bubbles burst.

No monster or any such thing appeared from within them - at least, not that could be seen. Nevertheless, a number of the invaders fell to the ground, clawing at their throats.

"-Byron!!"

The enraged attackers unleashed a volley of bolts of lightning.

As expected, the bubbles that still floated around Lord Byron himself moved to intercept the attack, but they were unable to entirely protect him. As about a third of the attacks pierced through the bubbles, the bolts struck true, driving Byron to his knees.

"Hah! The collector who confined himself to his wilderness retreat falls after all!"

The attackers that had previously collapsed began to recover, and soon they began a new spell with their enraged companions.

Clutching a hand to the burn wound on his shoulder, Byron struck his cane into the ground again. The number of bubbles in the air doubled, forming into a rainbow fortress before the invaders. Considering that he was a member of

Value

the Faculty of Creation

, that meant this battle was a question of whether Lord Byron's art could sufficiently oppose the intruders.

But.

"Whoa, the fight's already started!"

A hysteric voiced echoed from the depths of the forest.

In response, Lord Byron's collection of bubbles spun behind him, descending into the undergrowth in the opposite direction from the invaders as they autonomously responded to the new threat.

The primary function of the bubbles was to destroy the oxygen latent in the air, thus robbing his opponents of the ability to breathe. So to see someone completely unaffected by that kind of attack was the ultimate surprise for Lord Byron.

"What?!"

"One of Iselma's dogs?!"

The attackers at once tensed up at the new arrival.

But the expression of the youth that emerged from the undergrowth was anything but hostile.

"You're Lord Byron, right? From House Iselma?" he asked with a smile.

The fact he was somehow managing to keep the shock from showing on his face spoke volumes of Lord Byron's disposition.

"...and you are?"

"Flat Escardos, from the El-Melloi classroom! Reporting for duty!" With a sharp salute, the blonde haired boy turned to the invaders.

Folding his arms with a triumphant smirk, he called upwards into the trees.

"Now, take 'em out, Le Chien!"

"I told you not to call me that!"

With an angry yell Svin dropped to the ground. Muttering under his breath about having his cover blown, he lightly stroked his nose.

"You guys all smell like sharp metal, you know? Nothing but an ugly, disgusting thirst for blood coming from the lot of you."

Up until that point, the attackers had been looking down on the two boys.

It went without saying that anyone who would jump into this situation had to be recognized as a certain sort of dangerous. It was even more crucial for magi not to write off their opponents based on outwards appearances, as well. And that was why, even as they laughed at them, they wasted no time in activating their magecraft.

But before they could finish,





Svin howled.

The shockwave of that roar was enough to blow away the attackers' magecraft.

In many Asian countries, it was said that the voice of a dog had the power to expel evil. As if the boy's voice had similar properties, the magical energy that should have been flowing through their Magic Circuits vanished entirely.

"No way, you...!"

"-El Melloi Classroom, Svin Glascheit." Declaring his name before the wide-eyed intruders, Svin's howl changed to another form.



"

Pale Death

Pallida Mors

."

Was that the boy's spell?

With a soft hum, Svin's hair began to move. As if the hair itself had been transformed into a different creature, it began to squirm. As they watched, that hair grew, stretching down to cover his back, while his canines grew into bladelike fangs. Though the beauty remained unchanged, its nature had shifted.

He jumped.

Even so, the attackers responded as appropriate.

At once, they released the magecraft they had been holding back. Though the lightning they released was no more than a One Count spell, thanks to the enhancing effects of the Weather Manipulation, it should have had no issue tearing apart their unlucky opponent.

But instead, the hand one of them had extended forward vanished.

In the same way as his teeth had become fangs, Svin's fingernails had likewise become razorlike claws. Perhaps even unaware of that change, the magus was relieved of his hand, and collapsed to the ground unconscious due to the sudden mass blood loss.

Without pausing, Svin leapt into the trees. From trunk to branch, to trunk again, he soared around the forest as if gravity itself was no obstacle for him.

One of the magi managed to bring his wits to bear in time to try and give answer to the attack, but upon seeing Svin's form he gasped, eyes wide.

Svin's body had transformed.

Close enough to be mistaken for that legendary Phantasmal Species, the muscles of his body rippled and the hair of his body stood with the firmness of metal, giving the impression of a werewolf. No, his actual self couldn't have changed. Looking closely, one could see that his clothes and shoes remained undamaged by the transformation. The bizarre magical energy that wrapped itself around the young man's body was simply attempting to give off the impression of a werewolf.

Rather than werewolf, perhaps the term Phantasmal Wolf was more appropriate.

Bestial Magecraft.

Across many lands, magecraft was a pursuit that sought to replicate the abilities of animals in people.

No, it wasn't just magecraft. The number of Chinese martial arts, like Xingyiquan and White Crane Boxing, that took hints for their movements from those of animals was too high to count. In the west, motifs of swans and lions frequently appeared in dance and art as well. Since the time when mankind split itself off from the animal kingdom, it had revered it as a source of Mystery.

Such was the nature of Svin Glascheit's magecraft.

Just as the term Berserker originally referred to warriors who clad themselves in bear skins, his art was to draw forth a tremendous bestial nature from within himself. Infusing his body with the Mystery of beasts, he acquired an overwhelming level of speed and strength that far exceeded simple Strengthening magecraft.

Even if his opponent was a magus, his was a speed that could not be tracked.

As if they were no more than straw, he struck through the magi.

The fact they were in the middle of the forest no doubt also contributed to Svin's supremacy over the other magi. With the failing light of dusk cut further by the surrounding trees, even if they Strengthened their eyesight there was no way they could track his speed. But every time they made even the slightest contact with Svin's raging claws, flesh came away with them.

"If that's how it is, then...!"

The remaining magi shifted strategies.

Breaking from their tight-knit formation, they scattered themselves around the clearing as they activated another spell. If they couldn't match him at close range, then they would dispatch him from a distance. Being able to rapidly shift into a different fighting style, it was clear that they were all magi experienced in battle.

But they didn't have any experience dealing with this ability.

"Right, right, now spin it, like this!" Flat said, waving his hand in a circle.

For an observer well versed in sports, one might have observed that Flat's posture just prior to waving his hands matched that of the other magi. In psychological terms, this mirroring was the act of adopting another's posture and mannerisms in order to set them at ease. In this case, however, the action had a completely different purpose.

"

Play Ball

Intervention Start.

"

With that, the vector of the magical energy changed.

Just as the lightning left the hands of the magi, it immediately turned, changing directions completely. Screams filled the air as the magi were struck down by their own lightning. Using a doll that resembled the target in order to place a curse on them - Flat's movements earlier had been for the purpose of replicating an effect similar to that well-known kind of sympathetic magecraft.

It was a curse one could see from time to time in various schools of southeast Asian magecrafts.

...in the Clock Tower, where European magecraft served as the foundation for all study, such a curse would never be taught.

But, the same thing went for Flat.

His style of magecraft was also unique.

Owing to his incredibly rare affinity of Void, the spells he would use were all but guaranteed to be bordering on heretical. Within the study of Modern Magecraft, the idea of collecting the strong points of various styles and combining them into a single art was categorized as Chaos Magecraft, but after Lord El-Melloi II had evaluated it as something that 'sounds more like Strange Magecraft,' Flat himself began spreading that name, proud of having his magecraft specially christened by his teacher.

Normally, such a formula wouldn't work at all.

Chaos Magecraft itself was brittle from the foundation up. Since one could only include variations of magecraft they were personally familiar with, though the idea of taking the strengths of other styles of magecraft and combining them into one made it sound almost omnipotent, the reality was that properly codifying those strengths into workable spells was a difficult endeavour. And yet, Flat's approach of 'I just did it that way and it worked' was certainly very maverick of him.

Above all, his ability to interfere with the magecraft of others was unreasonably potent.

"...the...El-Melloi Classroom...?"

With a moan, one of the attackers spoke.

The twin jewels of the El-Melloi Classroom. In short, the figureheads of the newly rising powers of the Clock Tower. Both having long and storied bloodlines, neither could be called part of the New Agers, but for that reason they were able to demonstrate true ability without restraint.

A marriage of the might of old magecraft to the flexibility of new instruction.

Whether they realized it or not, the two moved in perfect sync.

"Alright, Le Chien, let's pick up the pace! Let's show them what it means to be the aces of El-Melloi!"

"Stop trying to give me orders!"

Despite the face of the words coming through his muddled voice, Svin dutifully struck the invaders after Flat's interference nullified their magecraft. Though they were both of exceptionally strong egos, and the ability for anyone to smoothly cooperate with such vastly different schools of magecraft was unlikely to surpass mediocre at best, the two of them nevertheless executed their teamwork like twins that had trained together since birth.

At the same time, both of them came to a stop.

Not just them, even the attacking magi had stopped, turning away from the El-Melloi students. The fear written on their face was one of a completely different breed than that of earlier.

"...and what exactly is going on here?" the deeply tanned young man spoke.



As he spoke, Atram Galiasta's lips curled into a sinister smile.

The next release will be Part 4 and 5 together, since Part 5 is only a couple pages long.

Svin is so cute LOL, and it's always fun to see these two problem children prodigies

[SirGauoftheSquareTable]

Honestly he seemed mostly stupid in UBW. Especially with how pissy he got that Medea was so much better than him.

Basically this.

[TwilightsCall]

Chapter 1 Part 4

Chapter 1



Part 4



-My master and I leaned up against a tree with Reines to avoid the rain.

In order to maintain control over the strongest leylines, the land controlled by magi often avoided dense urban areas. As a result, areas like this with dense greenery were rather common. As if that leyline had conferred its blessing on the trees and shrubs growing in the area, despite the obvious age of the trees, they were each thickly crowned with young, vibrant leaves.

How long had they looked out upon this scenery?

There was no indication that the thunder was anywhere close to ending.

Thick storm clouds covered the entirety of Iselma's territory, as if the clouds were attempting to chase out the setting sun. It reminded me of the story of Orion, who after being killed by a scorpion, became a constellation eternally fleeing from it.

As my master stared at the heavy rain, I ventured a question.

"...is it okay to let Flat and Svin run off like that?"

"...yes. Either way, those two would try to force themselves into the fight. Even if their opponents are magi of any reasonable calibre, those two won't let themselves be outdone. As much as they are problem children, they frankly still have that level of ability."

As if in a bad mood, he spoke reluctantly with a puff of cigar smoke.

The fact that they had ability sufficient to be considered problem children was likely an honest confession from him. Compared to the other faculties, the El-Melloi Classroom was already a collection of misfits and dissidents, but even among them those two stood out. For their ability in magecraft of course, but more so it was their entire way of being. While dedicating such tremendous efforts to learning magecraft, they still stood out as having a nature that was somehow different from the other magi of the Clock Tower.

Perhaps one could say that they were like my master, in his way of being both entirely magus-like and the furthest thing from it.

"Well, except for the fact their opponent is not normal."

"...not normal?" As my master said that, I felt a shiver run up my back. Though I felt it was somewhat pathetic, at the same time it was a difficult response to suppress.

"Atram Galiasta. The man Svin had investigated for me. Well, if worse comes to worse, it's not like he's an opponent those two couldn't escape from..."

"...Galiasta."

It was a pretty rare-sounding name.

Of course, when it came to the Clock Tower, I wouldn't have recognized any names, but even so it had a very foreign sound to me. A dry sound. Air hot enough to burn the skin. Swords with a thick, crescent blade. That kind of feeling.

As if to confirm my thoughts, my master continued.

"It's an old bloodline from the Middle East, only recently aligned with the Clock Tower. Their magecraft steps right into the field of Curses, so they are a rather troublesome opponent to deal with. At any rate, they used that magecraft to force cooperation from nearby organizations, securing the rights to oil drilling operations. As far as influence in mundane affairs is concerned, they're in the lead even among members of the Clock Tower...and, in an auction for a certain Talisman, they struggled right to the end against Iselma."

"Oh? That's the Talisman you said Iselma had bought up earlier, correct?"

At Reines' interruption, I recalled a certain man.



"Actually, there's a certain Talisman I'd like to get my hands on."



Mick Grajilie.

The man who had just casually announced that he was a spy.

Speaking of him, I hadn't seen him since this morning. I had to wonder what he was up to, now that Iselma was under attack. If his confession to being a spy was actually true, then maybe he and Galiasta were...

I swallowed nervously.

Reines spoke.

"So, does that mean Galiasta was behind the Princess' murder?"

"I wonder," my master responded vaguely.

Putting a finger to his mouth, he narrowed his eyes as he began to put the information in order.

"The idea that it was revenge for taking the Talisman out from under them is possible, but...if that were the case, wouldn't they have opted for kidnapping instead? On top of that, would there be any need to follow up with an attack like this?"

"What if, for example, they sent someone to find the Talisman covertly, but the Princess discovered the plot and had to be killed to cover it up?"

My master shook his head at Reines' conjecture.

"And after killing her, they just politely returned her to her bedroom? Sure, they could have used some sort of magecraft to keep the scene clean of blood, but how would they have dealt with the Mystic Lock?"

"Hm. Well...hm." Scratching at the air with a finger, Reines went quiet.

Unfortunately, I was completely out of my league in this kind of discussion. I couldn't grasp the thoughts and feelings of even the two in front of me, let alone someone I had only met two or three times. There was no way I could provide anything close to a useful hypothesis.

As a result, I simply watched the two talk, hands clasped together.



"Ihihihihi! What's wrong, what's wrong? Why don't you try adding your thoughts to the mix? If it's a mystery game, you might as well throw out a couple dumb theories. Heck, why not ten? As the Watson of this outfit, who cares if you're completely wrong?"



The sound of Add's laughter came from around my right hand.

"...I'm...not that smart, so..."

"That's just 'cause you always put off thinking though, right? 'I can't, I can't!' So much easier to repeat that than do any real thinking, right?"

I had no response to Add's sharp accusations.

Rather, I agreed with him. Frankly speaking, thinking like that was more trouble than it was worth. If I could just close my eyes and cover my ears, life would be so easy. I didn't even have the courage to kill myself - rather, I was absolutely terrified out of my mind that if I died, I'd become one of...those. If I could just rest peacefully in the ground, that would be fine, but the idea of wandering the earth unable to die...

Hopelessly cowardly, hopelessly lazy. That was me.

Even if you said I should try and change, that first step was just too much for me. Ever since I put my old home behind me, I hadn't changed a bit.

Why?

...it was painful.

I felt nauseous, like I might collapse.

This incident was pressing close to my heart. Something about the situation here pressured me in a way so different than when we were at the Castle of Separation, but here I was, the only one unable to see anything.

"-but if we follow that theory, you can't explain the death of the maid."

"Urgh. But if we suppose there are two culprits..."

The conversation between Reines and my master felt so far away, while I felt caught up in the pain in my chest.

Probably, because it was so close to me.

Something so important I couldn't afford to let it go, yet something that struck so close to home I couldn't bear to focus my attention on it.

It felt like there were invisible needles mixed in with the incessant rain. Being stabbed would of course hurt, but it was scary to even think that you couldn't see them no matter how much you stared. You wouldn't have any way of knowing until the blood first showed.

You wouldn't know they were needles at all until you were dead on the ground, filled with countless needles.

And if you looked at that corpse after the rain had stopped, no doubt you would look on perplexed, wondering why they hadn't just run away.

"Hm. But by your logic, then the Princess of Gold's creation..."

"No, while the Princess' beauty was certainly something manufactured, at that level whether it was natural or not is irrelevant. The Concept of artificial is one that returns to nature anyways. Whether it's polished by running water, or polished by a person's hand, a rock is still a rock. In short..."

(...oh, I see.)

Suddenly, the words being exchanged outside by conscious thought leaked through.

The Princess of Gold, and the Princess of Silver.

Really, I was very much the same as those two. My master's lecture about cosmetic magecraft and its history had struck through me like those invisible needles.

Gently, I touched my hood.

These were my invisible needles. An ice that encased my heart, refusing to melt no matter how much time passed.

If talking about needles of glass, then it obviously couldn't refer to anything else. The fact I hadn't realized it until now just went to show how stupid I really was. No matter how far away I ran, my own foolishness still pierced my chest. Stabbed my heart. Poured out my blood.

(-I'd just be better off dead...)

I'd rather that imaginary blood just filled my throat and drowned me.

Let my neck get scratched out, let my face turn all purple. I didn't care how pathetic I looked when I collapsed. Rather, that seemed like it would be the most appropriate way for me to die. I wanted to avoid the disgrace of having my remains turn into a ghost, but if that could be avoided, then...

"-Gray."

I suddenly realized someone was calling my name.

"...ah, master?"

"What's wrong? You've gone pale."

My master's brow was wrinkled as usual as he looked down at me. Though he might have misconstrued my expression as me feeling unwell, the fact that he could tell something was wrong just from that expression was a sign of how long we had spent together.

"Actually, I..."

For a few seconds, I hesitated.

Though I was beginning to get flustered, I still remembered my thoughts from just earlier quite clearly.

In that case, there was a way much clearer than words I could use to describe my feelings. Just a little, I pulled back my hood.

Seeing that, my master's eyes went wide.

"Gray! I thought I told you not to-"

"...no."

Just like I had asked him to so long ago, he immediately began to reprimand me, but I was able to wave it off.

Though I had only pulled back my hood a tiny bit, and though the fingers that had done so felt like they were burning for it, at last I managed to get my mouth to work.

"My face...I think it could be related to what's going on...maybe..."

"To this incident? But-"

My master cut off, glancing quickly to his side.

He was probably trying to bring my attention to the fact Reines was still here. What I wanted to talk about wasn't something that should be known to just anyone. As if she had guessed as much herself, Reines tilted her head to the side a bit as she spoke up.

"Hm. Well if I'm the problem, I can excuse myself...?"

"...no, it's okay. I think this is something you need to know as well."

Briefly, I looked over at my master.

Though his expression was just as conflicted as before, he didn't seem like he was going to voice any objections.

Softly, I put a hand to my now revealed cheek.

"This is....not my original face."

"What-?!" Reines' expression immediately twisted in surprise.

Now thinking about it, Reines had pointed out my hood a number of times.



You'd be so much cuter without that hood, you know.



Though she had been teasing me, those words had stuck with me.

If she had taken interest in me, then I could only say I was sorry. Really, truly sorry, but I wasn't someone who met the expectations of others. In the end, I just couldn't.

"...you already know about Add, right?"

"Hey, come on! Don't take me out so suddenly! I need the time to brace myself!"

Releasing the hook under my cloak, I let the cage drop into view. The moment he appeared, Add's eyes and mouth immediately set about working busily. Thinking about it, back in my hometown, the only ones I could look to to help me relax were the people on the TV, and this box.

"This box has a Noble Phantasm hidden within it."

I decided against sharing its true name,

Rhongomyniad

The Spear That Shines at the End of the World

.

A treasure once wielded by the legendary King Arthur, to the Clock Tower it had a special significance. That's why my master had given me strict instructions to never say the name out loud except for when I was using it.

But even holding that back, Reines was still listening earnestly. She didn't ask any difficult questions about what it's true nature was. In short, she was acting like a true magus. She was used to asking questions limited to certain topics, limited to a certain scope. For that, I was now especially grateful.

Nodding, I continued.

"My family...their goal was to create someone who could wield the contents of this box."

In that way, we were the same.

Born not just with a purpose, but for a purpose. One that was decided for us. Just as the Princesses were born for the sake of creating beauty, so too was I born into someone else's role.

Also, that both of us were more successful than anyone else.

"In order to imitate the person who had originally wielded the contents of this box, so many...so many people were created..."

Just as the family of magi who had sought to create the ultimate beauty.

My family had believed that if they could create someone identical to that original wielder, not just in the face but in every capacity - from bodily proportions, to muscle structure, to the internal organs and blood vessels - if they could faithfully recreate that, then they would have someone who could use that Noble Phantasm. Of course, it went without saying that a perfect reconstruction was impossible, due to the numerous elements of Mystery that the hero of old had possessed but were lost to us in the present age. But if they were able to recreate the physical properties of that hero, then somehow or other that divine glow would follow, or so my ancestors believed.

To endure the hundreds, if not thousands of years of countless failures, I couldn't even imagine the madness that had gripped them. What had the family heads of all those generations seen ahead of them, cursed to that fate of compliance that allowed not even the slightest waver?

"It first went really well about ten years ago."

Ten years ago.

I don't know why.

At the very least, at the time I was born, I was just as much of a failure as all the others. I had an excessive sensitivity to ghosts - something those around my family had considered a blessing - but even with that I had no reason to doubt that I was my own person. There wasn't even a single shred of evidence to justify it.

But, ten years ago.

Looking at myself in the mirror, my young self's face had drastically changed.

Though there were some faint similarities to my original face, little by little I watched as my face changed to that of a complete stranger. I could even hear the sound of my body reforming itself. With a pain completely different from normal growing pains, I could clearly hear my bones and muscles creaking and snapping as they rebuilt themselves into a new shape.

Inundated by that crushing agony, I spent a night on my bed, clutching my pillow, for what seemed like forever.

Seeing my face had transformed, held a much greater sense of nobility, my family had wrapped me in hugs openly weeping with joy. I didn't even know what kind of reaction was appropriate.

"...that was also when I became able to properly speak with Add."

Apparently, it was problem of precision.

Something about how, once I had become similar enough to the original wielder of the Noble Phantasm, the false personality dormant within the Mystic Code was awakened. At any rate, he soon became one of the few people I talked to.

"...I see." Reines gave a gentle nod.

My master already knew this much. You could call it a preamble. Something we talked about the first day we met in my old home. When I had made that request.



Please...keep hating my face.



Thinking back on it now, it was really a cruel thing to ask of him.

I don't like it, so please don't like it either. Was there anything more selfish? I was just so happy that, unlike my family, someone had responded to seeing my face with fear, but even that was no excuse.

But that was a discussion for another time.

Pushing down my suicidal self-hatred for now, I got to my point.

"...there were no mirrors in her room, were there?"

When Raines and I had investigated her room, we couldn't think of a single reason why such a staple for a woman's bedroom was so conspicuously missing. Of course, at the time I couldn't say anything. For me, the absence of mirrors was a given.

"Umm...I was wondering if...maybe her face was something artificial as well...?"

As I said that, I could feel my own cheeks start to burn.

Maybe I was completely wrong. It wasn't something that could even be called deduction, just simply spilling out the ideas that came into my head. After all, what did it matter that there were no mirrors? Even I didn't believe that was something that could help us solve this case.

But, neither Reines nor my master laughed at me.

So, as I put my hood back on, I tried desperately to explain.

"I...was scared..." Though my voice was trembling, I couldn't stop the words from spilling out one after another. This time, the fingers of the hand that had returned my hood felt cold as ice. "...that face in the mirror...seeing my own face change right in front of me...was so scary..."

Why?

In front of these people, I just honestly confessed. Something I could never say in front of a single person in my home town came out so easily in front of them. It felt like I had just thrown up a jagged stone, but compared to the fear I had felt at that time, it was barely sensation enough to register.

"It's not...that I hate this face," I continued.

Of course, there were still some traces left of my original face. From the start I had that nature, and my ancestors had strived to produce that in me anyways. In all honesty, after ten years of wearing this face, I wasn't able to tell where the traces of my old face were, and where the entirely new face began.

Perhaps, if nothing had happened at all, I still would have ended up with a face like this. Or maybe, as I grew, I would have developed a face that was entirely different.

"But, looking in mirrors...even now, the idea is scary...like I've been possessed by the ghost of a long-dead hero..."

"...I understand. That's enough."

As he spoke, I felt his fingers touch my cheek.

Feeling that, I realized I had been crying. With a troubled face, my master wiped the tears from my face with his handkerchief.

After that, he returned his hand to his cigar, as if bored.

"Transformed...certainly, that would be terrifying."

Through my blurry vision and the smoke rising from his cigar, I couldn't make out his face very well.

The raindrops struck the earth.

Reines remained silent.

Surprisingly, even Add had nothing to say. Even though I had broached a secret known only to my master and the people of my home, he didn't make fun of me. Was he trying to be nice? As pathetic as it was, he was certainly one of my very few friends.

A strange sound rang out.

Still holding his cigar, my master struck his hand against the bark of the tree he was leaning on, his eyes going wide.

"Wait, don't tell me..."

"What is it, dearest brother?" Seeing my master's eyes going wide, Reines tilted her head in confusion.

"...really? Is it really that easy?" Returning his cigar to his mouth, he began to mutter.

It seemed as if he hadn't heard his sister's voice at all. As if switching places with me, he sank entirely into his own thoughts.

"...if that's the case, then the calculations match. In any case, it's a planet, so the 120 degrees is all they needed. But, for the other...no, that problem had an answer already. The two of them are complementary in beauty, so they would already have the maximum effect...I see, it's not an issue of comparing them to Perault or Bajille. The issue is far more superficial..."

Like he had suddenly fallen into delirium, he continued to mutter to himself.

His forehead was once again deeply creased as he dove into his own thoughts. It was an expression that I couldn't say I hated. Though I didn't enjoy seeing others suffer or get unlucky like Reines did, somewhere deep inside I had taken a liking to that face which appeared so suddenly.

What kind of scenery was unfolding in his head?

I kind of wanted to see it for myself.

I wanted to share that view with him.

Though I wasn't anywhere close to being called smart, if I could catch just a glimpse of the world in his head...I felt like that alone could save me. It may not erase my doubts, or correct my flaws, but even so I marvelled at it like one looking up at a sky full of stars.

Maybe, in the same way that he looked up to a genius.

"It was the opposite...!" Finally, my master spoke again. "The sun wasn't representing something else. It was standing for the sun itself. At a scope like this, using the sun itself as the symbol would bring the difficulty way down. No, wait...if that's true then..."

Once again, my master grit his teeth, grinding them with a moan.

This time, the voice slipping out was far different than the one from him being lost in thought.

"Esteemed brother, it's fine if you want to just jump to conclusions like that, but can you pay a bit more attention to the rest of us? What about the sun is backwards?"

Unable to endure it any longer, Reines finally spoke out, her frustration clear in the harshness of her tone.

But my master, putting a single hand to his face, just stared up at the clouds.

"...then, that makes the worst possibility possible, doesn't it? Why didn't I realize this sooner...what have I been doing all this time?! If I had been any slower, who knows what would have happened?!"

I felt like I could almost hear his teeth grinding in the back of his mouth.

My master finally turned, not to Reines but to me.

"Gray."

"Y-yes?"

Suddenly being called on, I gave a stiff nod. As if worried he had been reading my thoughts, my heart started thundering. Probably, thanks to my hood, he didn't notice that I was blushing.

But, paying no mind to any of that, he simply continued to speak.

"I have a favour to ask of you."

Chapter 1 Part 5

Chapter 1



Part 5




Just a little, let us rewind time.


Just before Flat encountered Lord Byron, a certain magus nodded within the Tower of the Moon.

"-I see. So that's your move."

Touko Aozaki muttered softly.

On the desk in front of her, a faint steam rose from her cup of tea.

It was within the research space specifically allocated to her by the Iselma family. Through the square-cut windows of her room, she could see the dark clouds trying to crowd out the evening sky. Though it wasn't like she didn't know how unstable the weather was in lakefront areas like this, even so the change was far too drastic to be written off as natural.

Though she looked down on the happenings outside, what was reflected in her eyes was not the view from the nearby window.

A magus' servant. Depending on the school of magecraft, they were called things like Familiars or Agathions, or as in the Far East, Shikigami. Touko was of course using a puppet. Having taken an interest in the rumors of a certain magus using wires to create Familiars in the Fourth Holy Grail War, she had made a puppet out of springs, gears, and string herself.

Though looking at it now, it didn't seem like something that could be described as having been built on such a flimsy whim. For Touko, creating a puppet that served only a single function with no other features was, simply put, boring.

Wings were lined in brass, eyes formed of rubies, that Familiar was soaring above the tower twin to the one Touko now occupied.

"Well, it's kind of a pain, but a favour is a favour."

With a small sigh, Touko stood up.

At once, her gaze flicked to her feet, and to the object waiting there.

Somewhat rustic and overly large, a bizarre bag she had brought with her sat in the corner of the room.

Maybe going to get out two more parts before the anime premieres. Haven't decided if I'm going to watch it yet...

(And yes, by the way, that is all of part 5. And it's not even the shortest part in the book.)

[Skittles]

Thanks for the chapter

The two of them are complimentary in beauty, so they would already have the maximum effect

Think that probably should be complementary

[Bonfire]

Hm, If I recall Touko was already using puppets years before the fourth holy grail war even started. Here it sounded like Touko started using puppets after taking an interest in how Irisviel(?) was using her hair as a familiar back in the 4th HGW.

Looking back at the second volume, Touko apparently made a comment about Gray's face being interesting, perhaps she was able to tell from a glance about Gray's situation about her face?

[SirGauoftheSquareTable]

I think she was just inspired by the construction style of the puppets, not puppetry itself because she'd already done that before. Also, she probably had some clue about Gray's face being special magically speaking.

As for Gray herself, goddamit her narration was heartbreaking, and even if I don't ship it, her growing crush on Waver is absolutely adorable.

[mami-kouga]

Chapter 1 Part 4

Chapter 1



Part 4



-My master and I leaned up against a tree with Reines to avoid the rain.

In order to maintain control over the strongest leylines, the land controlled by magi often avoided dense urban areas. As a result, areas like this with dense greenery were rather common. As if that leyline had conferred its blessing on the trees and shrubs growing in the area, despite the obvious age of the trees, they were each thickly crowned with young, vibrant leaves.

How long had they looked out upon this scenery?

There was no indication that the thunder was anywhere close to ending.

Thick storm clouds covered the entirety of Iselma's territory, as if the clouds were attempting to chase out the setting sun. It reminded me of the story of Orion, who after being killed by a scorpion, became a constellation eternally fleeing from it.

As my master stared at the heavy rain, I ventured a question.

"...is it okay to let Flat and Svin run off like that?"

"...yes. Either way, those two would try to force themselves into the fight. Even if their opponents are magi of any reasonable calibre, those two won't let themselves be outdone. As much as they are problem children, they frankly still have that level of ability."

As if in a bad mood, he spoke reluctantly with a puff of cigar smoke.

The fact that they had ability sufficient to be considered problem children was likely an honest confession from him. Compared to the other faculties, the El-Melloi Classroom was already a collection of misfits and dissidents, but even among them those two stood out. For their ability in magecraft of course, but more so it was their entire way of being. While dedicating such tremendous efforts to learning magecraft, they still stood out as having a nature that was somehow different from the other magi of the Clock Tower.

Perhaps one could say that they were like my master, in his way of being both entirely magus-like and the furthest thing from it.

"Well, except for the fact their opponent is not normal."

"...not normal?" As my master said that, I felt a shiver run up my back. Though I felt it was somewhat pathetic, at the same time it was a difficult response to suppress.

"Atram Galiasta. The man Svin had investigated for me. Well, if worse comes to worse, it's not like he's an opponent those two couldn't escape from..."

"...Galiasta."

It was a pretty rare-sounding name.

Of course, when it came to the Clock Tower, I wouldn't have recognized any names, but even so it had a very foreign sound to me. A dry sound. Air hot enough to burn the skin. Swords with a thick, crescent blade. That kind of feeling.

As if to confirm my thoughts, my master continued.

"It's an old bloodline from the Middle East, only recently aligned with the Clock Tower. Their magecraft steps right into the field of Curses, so they are a rather troublesome opponent to deal with. At any rate, they used that magecraft to force cooperation from nearby organizations, securing the rights to oil drilling operations. As far as influence in mundane affairs is concerned, they're in the lead even among members of the Clock Tower...and, in an auction for a certain Talisman, they struggled right to the end against Iselma."

"Oh? That's the Talisman you said Iselma had bought up earlier, correct?"

At Reines' interruption, I recalled a certain man.



"Actually, there's a certain Talisman I'd like to get my hands on."



Mick Grajilie.

The man who had just casually announced that he was a spy.

Speaking of him, I hadn't seen him since this morning. I had to wonder what he was up to, now that Iselma was under attack. If his confession to being a spy was actually true, then maybe he and Galiasta were...

I swallowed nervously.

Reines spoke.

"So, does that mean Galiasta was behind the Princess' murder?"

"I wonder," my master responded vaguely.

Putting a finger to his mouth, he narrowed his eyes as he began to put the information in order.

"The idea that it was revenge for taking the Talisman out from under them is possible, but...if that were the case, wouldn't they have opted for kidnapping instead? On top of that, would there be any need to follow up with an attack like this?"

"What if, for example, they sent someone to find the Talisman covertly, but the Princess discovered the plot and had to be killed to cover it up?"

My master shook his head at Reines' conjecture.

"And after killing her, they just politely returned her to her bedroom? Sure, they could have used some sort of magecraft to keep the scene clean of blood, but how would they have dealt with the Mystic Lock?"

"Hm. Well...hm." Scratching at the air with a finger, Reines went quiet.

Unfortunately, I was completely out of my league in this kind of discussion. I couldn't grasp the thoughts and feelings of even the two in front of me, let alone someone I had only met two or three times. There was no way I could provide anything close to a useful hypothesis.

As a result, I simply watched the two talk, hands clasped together.



"Ihihihihi! What's wrong, what's wrong? Why don't you try adding your thoughts to the mix? If it's a mystery game, you might as well throw out a couple dumb theories. Heck, why not ten? As the Watson of this outfit, who cares if you're completely wrong?"



The sound of Add's laughter came from around my right hand.

"...I'm...not that smart, so..."

"That's just 'cause you always put off thinking though, right? 'I can't, I can't!' So much easier to repeat that than do any real thinking, right?"

I had no response to Add's sharp accusations.

Rather, I agreed with him. Frankly speaking, thinking like that was more trouble than it was worth. If I could just close my eyes and cover my ears, life would be so easy. I didn't even have the courage to kill myself - rather, I was absolutely terrified out of my mind that if I died, I'd become one of...those. If I could just rest peacefully in the ground, that would be fine, but the idea of wandering the earth unable to die...

Hopelessly cowardly, hopelessly lazy. That was me.

Even if you said I should try and change, that first step was just too much for me. Ever since I put my old home behind me, I hadn't changed a bit.

Why?

...it was painful.

I felt nauseous, like I might collapse.

This incident was pressing close to my heart. Something about the situation here pressured me in a way so different than when we were at the Castle of Separation, but here I was, the only one unable to see anything.

"-but if we follow that theory, you can't explain the death of the maid."

"Urgh. But if we suppose there are two culprits..."

The conversation between Reines and my master felt so far away, while I felt caught up in the pain in my chest.

Probably, because it was so close to me.

Something so important I couldn't afford to let it go, yet something that struck so close to home I couldn't bear to focus my attention on it.

It felt like there were invisible needles mixed in with the incessant rain. Being stabbed would of course hurt, but it was scary to even think that you couldn't see them no matter how much you stared. You wouldn't have any way of knowing until the blood first showed.

You wouldn't know they were needles at all until you were dead on the ground, filled with countless needles.

And if you looked at that corpse after the rain had stopped, no doubt you would look on perplexed, wondering why they hadn't just run away.

"Hm. But by your logic, then the Princess of Gold's creation..."

"No, while the Princess' beauty was certainly something manufactured, at that level whether it was natural or not is irrelevant. The Concept of artificial is one that returns to nature anyways. Whether it's polished by running water, or polished by a person's hand, a rock is still a rock. In short..."

(...oh, I see.)

Suddenly, the words being exchanged outside by conscious thought leaked through.

The Princess of Gold, and the Princess of Silver.

Really, I was very much the same as those two. My master's lecture about cosmetic magecraft and its history had struck through me like those invisible needles.

Gently, I touched my hood.

These were my invisible needles. An ice that encased my heart, refusing to melt no matter how much time passed.

If talking about needles of glass, then it obviously couldn't refer to anything else. The fact I hadn't realized it until now just went to show how stupid I really was. No matter how far away I ran, my own foolishness still pierced my chest. Stabbed my heart. Poured out my blood.

(-I'd just be better off dead...)

I'd rather that imaginary blood just filled my throat and drowned me.

Let my neck get scratched out, let my face turn all purple. I didn't care how pathetic I looked when I collapsed. Rather, that seemed like it would be the most appropriate way for me to die. I wanted to avoid the disgrace of having my remains turn into a ghost, but if that could be avoided, then...

"-Gray."

I suddenly realized someone was calling my name.

"...ah, master?"

"What's wrong? You've gone pale."

My master's brow was wrinkled as usual as he looked down at me. Though he might have misconstrued my expression as me feeling unwell, the fact that he could tell something was wrong just from that expression was a sign of how long we had spent together.

"Actually, I..."

For a few seconds, I hesitated.

Though I was beginning to get flustered, I still remembered my thoughts from just earlier quite clearly.

In that case, there was a way much clearer than words I could use to describe my feelings. Just a little, I pulled back my hood.

Seeing that, my master's eyes went wide.

"Gray! I thought I told you not to-"

"...no."

Just like I had asked him to so long ago, he immediately began to reprimand me, but I was able to wave it off.

Though I had only pulled back my hood a tiny bit, and though the fingers that had done so felt like they were burning for it, at last I managed to get my mouth to work.

"My face...I think it could be related to what's going on...maybe..."

"To this incident? But-"

My master cut off, glancing quickly to his side.

He was probably trying to bring my attention to the fact Reines was still here. What I wanted to talk about wasn't something that should be known to just anyone. As if she had guessed as much herself, Reines tilted her head to the side a bit as she spoke up.

"Hm. Well if I'm the problem, I can excuse myself...?"

"...no, it's okay. I think this is something you need to know as well."

Briefly, I looked over at my master.

Though his expression was just as conflicted as before, he didn't seem like he was going to voice any objections.

Softly, I put a hand to my now revealed cheek.

"This is....not my original face."

"What-?!" Reines' expression immediately twisted in surprise.

Now thinking about it, Reines had pointed out my hood a number of times.



You'd be so much cuter without that hood, you know.



Though she had been teasing me, those words had stuck with me.

If she had taken interest in me, then I could only say I was sorry. Really, truly sorry, but I wasn't someone who met the expectations of others. In the end, I just couldn't.

"...you already know about Add, right?"

"Hey, come on! Don't take me out so suddenly! I need the time to brace myself!"

Releasing the hook under my cloak, I let the cage drop into view. The moment he appeared, Add's eyes and mouth immediately set about working busily. Thinking about it, back in my hometown, the only ones I could look to to help me relax were the people on the TV, and this box.

"This box has a Noble Phantasm hidden within it."

I decided against sharing its true name,

Rhongomyniad

The Spear That Shines at the End of the World

.

A treasure once wielded by the legendary King Arthur, to the Clock Tower it had a special significance. That's why my master had given me strict instructions to never say the name out loud except for when I was using it.

But even holding that back, Reines was still listening earnestly. She didn't ask any difficult questions about what it's true nature was. In short, she was acting like a true magus. She was used to asking questions limited to certain topics, limited to a certain scope. For that, I was now especially grateful.

Nodding, I continued.

"My family...their goal was to create someone who could wield the contents of this box."

In that way, we were the same.

Born not just with a purpose, but for a purpose. One that was decided for us. Just as the Princesses were born for the sake of creating beauty, so too was I born into someone else's role.

Also, that both of us were more successful than anyone else.

"In order to imitate the person who had originally wielded the contents of this box, so many...so many people were created..."

Just as the family of magi who had sought to create the ultimate beauty.

My family had believed that if they could create someone identical to that original wielder, not just in the face but in every capacity - from bodily proportions, to muscle structure, to the internal organs and blood vessels - if they could faithfully recreate that, then they would have someone who could use that Noble Phantasm. Of course, it went without saying that a perfect reconstruction was impossible, due to the numerous elements of Mystery that the hero of old had possessed but were lost to us in the present age. But if they were able to recreate the physical properties of that hero, then somehow or other that divine glow would follow, or so my ancestors believed.

To endure the hundreds, if not thousands of years of countless failures, I couldn't even imagine the madness that had gripped them. What had the family heads of all those generations seen ahead of them, cursed to that fate of compliance that allowed not even the slightest waver?

"It first went really well about ten years ago."

Ten years ago.

I don't know why.

At the very least, at the time I was born, I was just as much of a failure as all the others. I had an excessive sensitivity to ghosts - something those around my family had considered a blessing - but even with that I had no reason to doubt that I was my own person. There wasn't even a single shred of evidence to justify it.

But, ten years ago.

Looking at myself in the mirror, my young self's face had drastically changed.

Though there were some faint similarities to my original face, little by little I watched as my face changed to that of a complete stranger. I could even hear the sound of my body reforming itself. With a pain completely different from normal growing pains, I could clearly hear my bones and muscles creaking and snapping as they rebuilt themselves into a new shape.

Inundated by that crushing agony, I spent a night on my bed, clutching my pillow, for what seemed like forever.

Seeing my face had transformed, held a much greater sense of nobility, my family had wrapped me in hugs openly weeping with joy. I didn't even know what kind of reaction was appropriate.

"...that was also when I became able to properly speak with Add."

Apparently, it was problem of precision.

Something about how, once I had become similar enough to the original wielder of the Noble Phantasm, the false personality dormant within the Mystic Code was awakened. At any rate, he soon became one of the few people I talked to.

"...I see." Reines gave a gentle nod.

My master already knew this much. You could call it a preamble. Something we talked about the first day we met in my old home. When I had made that request.



Please...keep hating my face.



Thinking back on it now, it was really a cruel thing to ask of him.

I don't like it, so please don't like it either. Was there anything more selfish? I was just so happy that, unlike my family, someone had responded to seeing my face with fear, but even that was no excuse.

But that was a discussion for another time.

Pushing down my suicidal self-hatred for now, I got to my point.

"...there were no mirrors in her room, were there?"

When Raines and I had investigated her room, we couldn't think of a single reason why such a staple for a woman's bedroom was so conspicuously missing. Of course, at the time I couldn't say anything. For me, the absence of mirrors was a given.

"Umm...I was wondering if...maybe her face was something artificial as well...?"

As I said that, I could feel my own cheeks start to burn.

Maybe I was completely wrong. It wasn't something that could even be called deduction, just simply spilling out the ideas that came into my head. After all, what did it matter that there were no mirrors? Even I didn't believe that was something that could help us solve this case.

But, neither Reines nor my master laughed at me.

So, as I put my hood back on, I tried desperately to explain.

"I...was scared..." Though my voice was trembling, I couldn't stop the words from spilling out one after another. This time, the fingers of the hand that had returned my hood felt cold as ice. "...that face in the mirror...seeing my own face change right in front of me...was so scary..."

Why?

In front of these people, I just honestly confessed. Something I could never say in front of a single person in my home town came out so easily in front of them. It felt like I had just thrown up a jagged stone, but compared to the fear I had felt at that time, it was barely sensation enough to register.

"It's not...that I hate this face," I continued.

Of course, there were still some traces left of my original face. From the start I had that nature, and my ancestors had strived to produce that in me anyways. In all honesty, after ten years of wearing this face, I wasn't able to tell where the traces of my old face were, and where the entirely new face began.

Perhaps, if nothing had happened at all, I still would have ended up with a face like this. Or maybe, as I grew, I would have developed a face that was entirely different.

"But, looking in mirrors...even now, the idea is scary...like I've been possessed by the ghost of a long-dead hero..."

"...I understand. That's enough."

As he spoke, I felt his fingers touch my cheek.

Feeling that, I realized I had been crying. With a troubled face, my master wiped the tears from my face with his handkerchief.

After that, he returned his hand to his cigar, as if bored.

"Transformed...certainly, that would be terrifying."

Through my blurry vision and the smoke rising from his cigar, I couldn't make out his face very well.

The raindrops struck the earth.

Reines remained silent.

Surprisingly, even Add had nothing to say. Even though I had broached a secret known only to my master and the people of my home, he didn't make fun of me. Was he trying to be nice? As pathetic as it was, he was certainly one of my very few friends.

A strange sound rang out.

Still holding his cigar, my master struck his hand against the bark of the tree he was leaning on, his eyes going wide.

"Wait, don't tell me..."

"What is it, dearest brother?" Seeing my master's eyes going wide, Reines tilted her head in confusion.

"...really? Is it really that easy?" Returning his cigar to his mouth, he began to mutter.

It seemed as if he hadn't heard his sister's voice at all. As if switching places with me, he sank entirely into his own thoughts.

"...if that's the case, then the calculations match. In any case, it's a planet, so the 120 degrees is all they needed. But, for the other...no, that problem had an answer already. The two of them are complementary in beauty, so they would already have the maximum effect...I see, it's not an issue of comparing them to Perault or Bajille. The issue is far more superficial..."

Like he had suddenly fallen into delirium, he continued to mutter to himself.

His forehead was once again deeply creased as he dove into his own thoughts. It was an expression that I couldn't say I hated. Though I didn't enjoy seeing others suffer or get unlucky like Reines did, somewhere deep inside I had taken a liking to that face which appeared so suddenly.

What kind of scenery was unfolding in his head?

I kind of wanted to see it for myself.

I wanted to share that view with him.

Though I wasn't anywhere close to being called smart, if I could catch just a glimpse of the world in his head...I felt like that alone could save me. It may not erase my doubts, or correct my flaws, but even so I marvelled at it like one looking up at a sky full of stars.

Maybe, in the same way that he looked up to a genius.

"It was the opposite...!" Finally, my master spoke again. "The sun wasn't representing something else. It was standing for the sun itself. At a scope like this, using the sun itself as the symbol would bring the difficulty way down. No, wait...if that's true then..."

Once again, my master grit his teeth, grinding them with a moan.

This time, the voice slipping out was far different than the one from him being lost in thought.

"Esteemed brother, it's fine if you want to just jump to conclusions like that, but can you pay a bit more attention to the rest of us? What about the sun is backwards?"

Unable to endure it any longer, Reines finally spoke out, her frustration clear in the harshness of her tone.

But my master, putting a single hand to his face, just stared up at the clouds.

"...then, that makes the worst possibility possible, doesn't it? Why didn't I realize this sooner...what have I been doing all this time?! If I had been any slower, who knows what would have happened?!"

I felt like I could almost hear his teeth grinding in the back of his mouth.

My master finally turned, not to Reines but to me.

"Gray."

"Y-yes?"

Suddenly being called on, I gave a stiff nod. As if worried he had been reading my thoughts, my heart started thundering. Probably, thanks to my hood, he didn't notice that I was blushing.

But, paying no mind to any of that, he simply continued to speak.

"I have a favour to ask of you."

Chapter 1 Part 5

Chapter 1



Part 5




Just a little, let us rewind time.


Just before Flat encountered Lord Byron, a certain magus nodded within the Tower of the Moon.

"-I see. So that's your move."

Touko Aozaki muttered softly.

On the desk in front of her, a faint steam rose from her cup of tea.

It was within the research space specifically allocated to her by the Iselma family. Through the square-cut windows of her room, she could see the dark clouds trying to crowd out the evening sky. Though it wasn't like she didn't know how unstable the weather was in lakefront areas like this, even so the change was far too drastic to be written off as natural.

Though she looked down on the happenings outside, what was reflected in her eyes was not the view from the nearby window.

A magus' servant. Depending on the school of magecraft, they were called things like Familiars or Agathions, or as in the Far East, Shikigami. Touko was of course using a puppet. Having taken an interest in the rumors of a certain magus using wires to create Familiars in the Fourth Holy Grail War, she had made a puppet out of springs, gears, and string herself.

Though looking at it now, it didn't seem like something that could be described as having been built on such a flimsy whim. For Touko, creating a puppet that served only a single function with no other features was, simply put, boring.

Wings were lined in brass, eyes formed of rubies, that Familiar was soaring above the tower twin to the one Touko now occupied.

"Well, it's kind of a pain, but a favour is a favour."

With a small sigh, Touko stood up.

At once, her gaze flicked to her feet, and to the object waiting there.

Somewhat rustic and overly large, a bizarre bag she had brought with her sat in the corner of the room.

Maybe going to get out two more parts before the anime premieres. Haven't decided if I'm going to watch it yet...

(And yes, by the way, that is all of part 5. And it's not even the shortest part in the book.)

As more and more comes out, I'm convinced- Gray-tan really loves Waver, it's unbelievably adorable. But it's also unbelievably sad (and kind of relatable cause that suicidal self loathing gave me intense De Ja Vu). It's pretty depressing that Waver's fear of her face made her happy since it was different, and yet she still feels terrible for making him go out of his way to act like he hates seeing it

[TwilightsCall]

Chapter 2 Part 1

Chapter 2


Part 1



Maio and Islo were holed up in the Tower of the Moon.

As Lord Byron had instructed them, they had retreated into their joint Workshop to avoid the fighting. In contrast to the primary Workshop that sat at the top of the tower, the temporary workshop they now occupied was underground. Beyond just the obvious implications in magecraft that placement had of trying to avoid the mixing of magical energy and mana between the two groups, it also served as an accurate metaphor of their compatibility.

Of course, just as it was in the Clock Tower, being underground was an advantage when it came to drawing out magical energy, but with the way Iselma's magecraft relied on the movements of celestial bodies, there were greater advantages elsewhere.

The two sat a fair distance away from each other.

The stone walled Workshop contained not only the standard fair one might expect, like stills and Philosopher's Eggs, but also pharmacist tools like mortars and pestles, along with craftsman's tools like spindles and a loom.

Of course, these were for the sake of Maio and Islo. They could also be said to be a historical record of the magi that had been brought in to aid in the construction of the Princesses of Gold and Silver.

...the ultimate beauty which had been revealed last night, of which only fragments now remained.

"...what are we...supposed to do?"

Islo spoke almost unconsciously.

His intricately braided hair began to sway.

As far as he was concerned, there was nothing interesting to see in people or in society. In actuality, even the magecraft he had suffered tremendously to obtain was something he didn't feel strongly about.

All he wanted was to see something beautiful. No doubt he wasn't alone in his family in that regard, as for generations they had aided Iselma in their craft. As far as Islo was concerned, the only ones worthy enough to wear his dresses were those two Princesses.

No, even he could feel that his attempts to draw out the beauty of those two in his weaving had made a striking improvement in his own skills. Far beyond just a growing skill as a fashion designer, it also included his growing ability as a magus, to prepare clothes that functioned as a kind of Mystic Code in their own right.

Mystic Codes, belonging to the Princesses of Gold and Silver.

They weren't what you would normally expect from a Mystic Code - a simple object meant to expend magical energy in the process of actualizing a supernatural phenomenon. They were simply tools used to draw out ever more of the beauty from within those two, the essence of which Reines had strangely managed to notice.


-In seeing something beautiful, one becomes more beautiful themselves.


Just as the Iselma family had spent generations modifying the Princesses of Gold and Silver both magically and physically, so too had the Sebunan family been advancing in their craft. Islo Sebunan was the man who stood at the end, as the result of those efforts.

In comparison,

"...I...I..."

The pharmacist Maio held a somewhat different inspiration.

With a decidedly unhealthy pallor to his face, Maio was pinching the area around his mouth. Struggling to get by his incessant stammer, he forced his throat to spit out his inner feelings.

"I...Dia-I mean, the Princess of Gold..."

Islo's eyes narrowed.

Covering the gloom in his own eyes, he spoke hoarsely.

"...you and Diadra...played a lot together, didn't you?"

Maio's face immediately darkened.

That was true. From the time she had just been a young candidate for becoming the Princess of Gold, from the time Estella was just a young candidate for becoming the Princess of Silver, he had been as a playmate to them. Though it was somewhat rare for magi of differing families to spend so much time together when young, in this case there was the practical necessity of needing to learn about the nature of their bodies as soon as possible. After all, the doctor needed to know far more about the patient's body than even the patient themselves. Maio's family - the Clynelles family had long served as pharmacists for the Iselma family, and since then a high amount of contact between their families had become critical.

From Maio's perspective, the purpose of his skills had been to support those two even since before they had been born.

"W-why do you say that, a-all of the sudden?"

"...Caleena and her sister...were also often around, weren't they?"

"The ones who k-knew the games were t-those two, after all..." Maio's reply was quiet, subdued.

Originally from a Celtic background, the twin maids knew all sorts of unique games. Not only Diadra and Estella, but even Maio was often brought along to participate.

"D-Diadra really love, hopscotch. S-she was so much better at it than I was."

"...ahh..." he sighed, remaining seated. "I...liked that too..."

"Huh?"

Surprised by the unexpected confession, Maio turned around.

"Y-you almost, never j-joined in though, right?"

"...Estella and Rejina aside...whenever I tried to play with Diadra...you always got angry, didn't you?"

Maio gulped, at a loss for words.

There was no use trying to deceive an old friend. No matter how much they were magi, their likes and dislikes were no different than those of ordinary people, especially at such a young age. His small feelings, his small jealousies, he remembered all of them. And together with them he grew up, simply adding the nature of a magus on top of what was already there.

"I-I..."

He was unable to continue from there. Even though it felt like the overflowing feelings might gush up out of his throat of their own accord, he couldn't form them into words. Just like it had always been.

"I-I dont...dislike, you."

"....ahh." Islo nodded, his face decidedly pale.

As if to allow time for their words to settle, he waited a short while before speaking again.

"Maio...do you think those attackers...are the ones who killed the Princess?"

"I don't know."

Maio weakly shook his head. To be honest, he didn't really want to think about anything. All he wanted to do was curl up on the floor and sleep like mud. How much happier would he be, eyes closed to the world? While it was said that among magi there were those who were capable of using self-hypnosis to perform Field Stripping, a mental deconstruction and cleaning to completely erase their own stress, what Maio wished for was a far more complete form of self-destruction. Completely dismantling the psyche to the point each minute piece became meaningless, and then never putting them back together. No, from the start it would just be better if he had never been born. Then, he wouldn't have to have experienced the loss of someone so close to him.

How much time passed?

The door opened.

Maio and Islo held their breath.

Though it was someone they both knew well, she seemed somehow even more beautiful, that personification of heaven and her maid.

"E-Estella, Rejina..."

Maio called their names.

Though she was supposed to be the Princess of Silver he had been close friends with since they were young, the face she wore now was unfamiliar to him.

...no, even that face was the result of their own work. Just as they had with the late Princess of Gold, they had offered up everything to give birth to the greatest beauty in her.

"So you two were in here? I'm glad."

Even her voice rang out with a beauty greater than that of any musical instrument.

Would one call returning to the small vestiges of her younger self cruel? In order to create that perfect, isolated beauty, everything else was stripped away from her. Just as with the Princess of Gold, rather than Estella Valueleta Iselma, Princess of Silver seemed like a much more appropriate name now.

"What, do you need, Estella?"

Even so, Maio stubbornly continued to call her that.

"The Princess..." As her maid began to speak, the Princess stopped her. She then opened her mouth to speak herself.

"Could I ask for your help?"

Maio and Islo both shared a silent look. Before they could reply though, she continued.


"I believe Lord Valueleta is the one who killed my sister."


A choked sound erupted from Maio's throat, matched by perfect silence from Islo.

But in the end, the pharmacist spoke first.

"W-why?"

"Iselma is originally a branch family of Valueleta. If we were to grow too successful, that would certainly be disadvantageous to the head family."

If the subordinate becomes to successful, the boss is in danger. It was a truth that was accepted all over the world. If the Princess of Gold's request for asylum had been successful, then of course Lord Byron would have lost standing, but management of the branch families inevitably fell to Lord Valueleta.

That was why she presumed the old woman was the true culprit.

It was a rational hypothesis. Considering the techniques employed by Valueleta, slicing the Princess of Gold apart inside her own room would be child's play, and if Caleena had found some sort of clue, it wasn't that unreasonable to expect her to kill the witness and frame that independant action type Mystic Code for the crime.

...and so.

After sitting stiffly for a while, Maio raised his head.

Gathering what one might call his resolve, he asked.

"W-what's the plan?"

[SirGauoftheSquareTable]

So Maio and the Princesses were childhood friends? That was unexpected, and it adds an extra dimension to this whole thing.

[mami-kouga]

Chapter 2 Part 1

Chapter 2


Part 1



Maio and Islo were holed up in the Tower of the Moon.

As Lord Byron had instructed them, they had retreated into their joint Workshop to avoid the fighting. In contrast to the primary Workshop that sat at the top of the tower, the temporary workshop they now occupied was underground. Beyond just the obvious implications in magecraft that placement had of trying to avoid the mixing of magical energy and mana between the two groups, it also served as an accurate metaphor of their compatibility.

Of course, just as it was in the Clock Tower, being underground was an advantage when it came to drawing out magical energy, but with the way Iselma's magecraft relied on the movements of celestial bodies, there were greater advantages elsewhere.

The two sat a fair distance away from each other.

The stone walled Workshop contained not only the standard fair one might expect, like stills and Philosopher's Eggs, but also pharmacist tools like mortars and pestles, along with craftsman's tools like spindles and a loom.

Of course, these were for the sake of Maio and Islo. They could also be said to be a historical record of the magi that had been brought in to aid in the construction of the Princesses of Gold and Silver.

...the ultimate beauty which had been revealed last night, of which only fragments now remained.

"...what are we...supposed to do?"

Islo spoke almost unconsciously.

His intricately braided hair began to sway.

As far as he was concerned, there was nothing interesting to see in people or in society. In actuality, even the magecraft he had suffered tremendously to obtain was something he didn't feel strongly about.

All he wanted was to see something beautiful. No doubt he wasn't alone in his family in that regard, as for generations they had aided Iselma in their craft. As far as Islo was concerned, the only ones worthy enough to wear his dresses were those two Princesses.

No, even he could feel that his attempts to draw out the beauty of those two in his weaving had made a striking improvement in his own skills. Far beyond just a growing skill as a fashion designer, it also included his growing ability as a magus, to prepare clothes that functioned as a kind of Mystic Code in their own right.

Mystic Codes, belonging to the Princesses of Gold and Silver.

They weren't what you would normally expect from a Mystic Code - a simple object meant to expend magical energy in the process of actualizing a supernatural phenomenon. They were simply tools used to draw out ever more of the beauty from within those two, the essence of which Reines had strangely managed to notice.


-In seeing something beautiful, one becomes more beautiful themselves.


Just as the Iselma family had spent generations modifying the Princesses of Gold and Silver both magically and physically, so too had the Sebunan family been advancing in their craft. Islo Sebunan was the man who stood at the end, as the result of those efforts.

In comparison,

"...I...I..."

The pharmacist Maio held a somewhat different inspiration.

With a decidedly unhealthy pallor to his face, Maio was pinching the area around his mouth. Struggling to get by his incessant stammer, he forced his throat to spit out his inner feelings.

"I...Dia-I mean, the Princess of Gold..."

Islo's eyes narrowed.

Covering the gloom in his own eyes, he spoke hoarsely.

"...you and Diadra...played a lot together, didn't you?"

Maio's face immediately darkened.

That was true. From the time she had just been a young candidate for becoming the Princess of Gold, from the time Estella was just a young candidate for becoming the Princess of Silver, he had been as a playmate to them. Though it was somewhat rare for magi of differing families to spend so much time together when young, in this case there was the practical necessity of needing to learn about the nature of their bodies as soon as possible. After all, the doctor needed to know far more about the patient's body than even the patient themselves. Maio's family - the Clynelles family had long served as pharmacists for the Iselma family, and since then a high amount of contact between their families had become critical.

From Maio's perspective, the purpose of his skills had been to support those two even since before they had been born.

"W-why do you say that, a-all of the sudden?"

"...Caleena and her sister...were also often around, weren't they?"

"The ones who k-knew the games were t-those two, after all..." Maio's reply was quiet, subdued.

Originally from a Celtic background, the twin maids knew all sorts of unique games. Not only Diadra and Estella, but even Maio was often brought along to participate.

"D-Diadra really love, hopscotch. S-she was so much better at it than I was."

"...ahh..." he sighed, remaining seated. "I...liked that too..."

"Huh?"

Surprised by the unexpected confession, Maio turned around.

"Y-you almost, never j-joined in though, right?"

"...Estella and Rejina aside...whenever I tried to play with Diadra...you always got angry, didn't you?"

Maio gulped, at a loss for words.

There was no use trying to deceive an old friend. No matter how much they were magi, their likes and dislikes were no different than those of ordinary people, especially at such a young age. His small feelings, his small jealousies, he remembered all of them. And together with them he grew up, simply adding the nature of a magus on top of what was already there.

"I-I..."

He was unable to continue from there. Even though it felt like the overflowing feelings might gush up out of his throat of their own accord, he couldn't form them into words. Just like it had always been.

"I-I dont...dislike, you."

"....ahh." Islo nodded, his face decidedly pale.

As if to allow time for their words to settle, he waited a short while before speaking again.

"Maio...do you think those attackers...are the ones who killed the Princess?"

"I don't know."

Maio weakly shook his head. To be honest, he didn't really want to think about anything. All he wanted to do was curl up on the floor and sleep like mud. How much happier would he be, eyes closed to the world? While it was said that among magi there were those who were capable of using self-hypnosis to perform Field Stripping, a mental deconstruction and cleaning to completely erase their own stress, what Maio wished for was a far more complete form of self-destruction. Completely dismantling the psyche to the point each minute piece became meaningless, and then never putting them back together. No, from the start it would just be better if he had never been born. Then, he wouldn't have to have experienced the loss of someone so close to him.

How much time passed?

The door opened.

Maio and Islo held their breath.

Though it was someone they both knew well, she seemed somehow even more beautiful, that personification of heaven and her maid.

"E-Estella, Rejina..."

Maio called their names.

Though she was supposed to be the Princess of Silver he had been close friends with since they were young, the face she wore now was unfamiliar to him.

...no, even that face was the result of their own work. Just as they had with the late Princess of Gold, they had offered up everything to give birth to the greatest beauty in her.

"So you two were in here? I'm glad."

Even her voice rang out with a beauty greater than that of any musical instrument.

Would one call returning to the small vestiges of her younger self cruel? In order to create that perfect, isolated beauty, everything else was stripped away from her. Just as with the Princess of Gold, rather than Estella Valueleta Iselma, Princess of Silver seemed like a much more appropriate name now.

"What, do you need, Estella?"

Even so, Maio stubbornly continued to call her that.

"The Princess..." As her maid began to speak, the Princess stopped her. She then opened her mouth to speak herself.

"Could I ask for your help?"

Maio and Islo both shared a silent look. Before they could reply though, she continued.


"I believe Lord Valueleta is the one who killed my sister."


A choked sound erupted from Maio's throat, matched by perfect silence from Islo.

But in the end, the pharmacist spoke first.

"W-why?"

"Iselma is originally a branch family of Valueleta. If we were to grow too successful, that would certainly be disadvantageous to the head family."

If the subordinate becomes to successful, the boss is in danger. It was a truth that was accepted all over the world. If the Princess of Gold's request for asylum had been successful, then of course Lord Byron would have lost standing, but management of the branch families inevitably fell to Lord Valueleta.

That was why she presumed the old woman was the true culprit.

It was a rational hypothesis. Considering the techniques employed by Valueleta, slicing the Princess of Gold apart inside her own room would be child's play, and if Caleena had found some sort of clue, it wasn't that unreasonable to expect her to kill the witness and frame that independant action type Mystic Code for the crime.

...and so.

After sitting stiffly for a while, Maio raised his head.

Gathering what one might call his resolve, he asked.

"W-what's the plan?"

Side Character chapter! I wasn't as invested as I am with our main group, but it's pretty interesting seeing this. And wow that guy has some hardcore depression

[You]

So Maio and the Princesses were childhood friends? That was unexpected, and it adds an extra dimension to this whole thing.

For the Islema drama Sanda re-purposes the foundation of the Far Side of Tsukihime to the magecraft world.

[Roak]

Anyone mind making an EPUB of volume 2? I tried doing it in a lazy way (converting the PDF to EPUB in calibre) but its a lot more complicated than that. The professional looking formatting gets in the way a bit which means I'd have to dig into the script and run the risk of spoilers. I really don't want to do that since I haven't even read volume 1...

[SirGauoftheSquareTable]

For the Islema drama Sanda re-purposes the foundation of the Far Side of Tsukihime to the magecraft world.

Huh...guess I should read Tsukihime at some point. Way too busy now, but maybe next summer.

[Skull]

For the Islema drama Sanda re-purposes the foundation of the Far Side of Tsukihime to the magecraft world.

Wait sorry, what does that mean in a wider context?

The Hisui/Akiha/Kohaku routes could have happened on the same timelines as the Fate routes? Or is it something completely different?

[SirGauoftheSquareTable]

Think he just meant in a literary sense, but who knows?

[You]

yeah in the literary sense
the tohno family drama definitely serves as an inspiration for the Iselma