The Holy Man of The Church Creek

40

Figuratively speaking, in the aftermath of the Civil War of the Underworld, only two things became readily apparent.
-

The Sacrifice of the Last Demon of the Ars Goetia.
-And the establishment of the Underworld's Mightiest.
And Sirzechs was the strongest of them.
Fiery coloured eyes stared down at the God before them in a murderous glower.
No matter what was said or done, Sirzechs wasn't a fool who would believe in the words of others so easily. He was a leader of the Underworld, and although he preferred to delegate his duties to his wife, it didn't mean that he wasn't capable.
Something had happened to his younger sister, and the fact that a stranger would meet with him promptly after only deepened his suspicions.
The power in his arms intensified, strands of twisting energies of destruction annihilating all that it touched, forcing the God in his grasp to use up divinity to counter it.
"Do you really think you have the qualifications to barter with me?" He said darkly before increasing his strength. The entire Gremory estate began to tremble, massive fluctuations of energy rippling outwards. "I'm not a famed demon like my ancestors, but aren't you underestimating me too much?"
The man stared up into Sirzechs eyes and fell silent. Honestly speaking, Sirzechs wasn't wrong about the man belittling him. Unlike the other Gods that had witnessed Sirzechs's power in Poseidon's dimension of water, it was the first time the man had seen such strength from a Devil. It caught the man off guard, but no longer.
The man craned his neck to laugh at Sirzechs face.
"And where do you get such boundless arrogance from?" The man asked, inhaling sharply before ceasing all signs of resistance.
Sirzechs's brows furrowed, an ill premonition taking root from within him as he immediately bore down with the intent to destroy. Yet even before his magical energy could harm the man in front of him, the man himself was already fading as if he were never there.
"I am a Trickster God," the man said smugly. "Even if you caught me, was it really 'me' you caught?"
Saying that, the divinity Sirzechs had felt from the man gradually faded until all that was left was the dead body of a Devil he didn't know. Worse, he understood that he would get nothing out of the man regarding what had happened to his younger sister.
His mood plummeted as a voice resounded.
"Know that you've made an enemy out of the wrong God, Devil. This won't be the last you'll see of me."
Sirzechs glanced up sharply yet was unable to locate anyone in the vicinity other than his approaching family guards, Father, and Mother who were attracted by the commotion. His hands balled into fists and his veins bulged from beneath his skin, for the first time in several decades, he was beyond furious.
He wanted nothing more than to pursue and quell the rage from within him, but a glance at the magic circle in his hands reminded him of the danger Rias may be in. He forcibly supressed his fury and decided on a course of action.
Family would come first.
As much as the man seemed as if he had gotten away without difficulty, it was far from the truth. His complexion was pale, an unhealthy pallor over a face drenched in cold sweat. His hubris had gotten the most of him, a fact that irked him to no end for it had never happened before. Granted, it was only natural that he had underestimated someone who wasn't another God, minor or otherwise.
The power Sirzechs possessed, it was unexpected. Not only did it feel as if it were capable of annihilating his protective divinity, it also felt as if his true divinity was eroding away as well.
He stared down at the lingering flame-like power eating away at his hand and grimaced.
Although it wasn't his actual body that had met with Sirzechs Lucifer, he still had to use a fragment of himself to control the body to his whims. Therefore, the price of his pride against a lower being came at the cost of a portion of his divine soul.
The glower over his face morphed into a vengeful hatred.
It was one thing to offend a High-God, Rulers of their pantheons and Religions, but it was another thing entirely to offend a Trickster God.
His name was Loki, Norse God of Lies and Deception.
Unlike Odin, Zeus, or Ra, there were times he could be exceedingly petty. He would not strike his offenders down with divine lightning or any quick means, but would never relent in his torment out of spite.
Sirzechs had a family, didn't he?
It was one thing to react to what had happened to his younger sister, but what sort of expression would the man make should his son or wife disappear?
Loki fell into contemplation, his thoughts unable to be discerned, yet the glint in his eyes became increasingly sharper as time passed on.
To begin with, he really didn't have anything to do with the events concerning Rias Gremory, Sirzechs's sister. Unlike the other Gods that had gone to witness the spectacle of Poseidon's dimension of water, he himself had dared not attend. His participation would have alerted the old man of the North of his presence and lost him the element of surprise. Against the God known as the All Father, it was already hard enough that he had been able to remain hidden for so long.
As a result of not attending, he was left to stew in his thoughts in the Underworld while Sirzechs and the Underworld's lead powers vanished into a magic circle.
Left alone, he had inadvertently stumbled on the affair concerning Rias through the unhindered spreading of his divine sense.
A new plan had begun forming from there.
Looking around him, Loki moved away from the forested region of the Underworld he had secluded himself in, and towards a more hidden location. It was a plateau heavily marked with concealment magic that formed a wide dome across an area of several hundred meters.
He paused just before entering, forcibly suppressing the weakness displayed on his features lest he lose credibility. It really was all Sirzechs fault.
Even now, he loathed himself for being so optimistic about his meeting with Sirzechs. Should the man have had agreed to his terms, then what he was going to do now was far from necessary. Unfortunately, things didn't go well for one reason alone. His lack of understanding of Sirzechs's character, the man able to keep a level-head despite the situation concerning his sister.
It was completely contradictory to the information he had gathered pertaining to the man and his overprotectiveness, but regardless, it didn't matter anymore.
He placed his hand over the concealment magic before him and swiftly entered the space.
Inside sat an assortment of Gods he had contacted after the events of Poseidon's Domain of Water had concluded. They sat spaced away from each other with concealed animosity for their peers in their eyes, soon directed at him from the moment he entered.
It was an uncomfortable feeling as he knew that he wasn't the strongest of Gods, and as such would rather avoid exposing himself to such situations but he currently had no choice. His one goal was to bring about Ragnarök in the realms of the Norse, but with the direction Odin was taking by contacting the other religions, Loki had no choice but to intervene. Odin's safeguards were hard enough to deal with, and with the creation of an alliance Loki knew Odin had full intentions of joining, Ragnarök would be impossible.
Fortunately, he wasn't the only God who didn't fancy an alliance between Pantheons, one of which included a God of Death itself, Hades.
The Greek God of Death sat upon a throne of bones near the center of the gathering, none daring to approach him without a given measure of courage due to the death energies surrounding him. They were like wisps of black fog that moved sporadically in the air, sapping the life of all who drew near. The grass and foliage itself around Hades had already wilted, small pomegranate fruits rising from the dirt and shining with a tempting otherworldly luster.
Yet none present would ever consider eating them.
Loki was of the same mindset, but as he was the one who organized the gathering, it fell upon him to start it.
He cleared his throat, channeling the divinity within him to amplify his voice.
"I won't exchange pleasantries," he was quick to say, expression stern. "We all know why we've gathered here. None of us want an alliance between the pantheons to happen."
His words rang true with everyone present, none more so than the Gods of War in attendance.
Without knowledge of the looming threat of the Trihexa that the One God had sealed away, from the perspective of a God of War, an alliance would only serve to weaken them. The world of Man itself had long since ceased their conflicts, the introduction of nuclear weaponry culling any war efforts. As a result, the only source of faith Gods of War could derive their strength from was the strife between the Gods and Factions of the other Religions. If a world-wide alliance were to occur, then what use was there in being a God of War?
Loki's words only served to instigate the crowd, those directly related showing the greatest reaction, yet Hades remained silent.
Loki took note of this and felt that something was off.
With Hades' personality and the fact that the God of Death even had a hand involved with the creation of the Khaos Brigade, he assumed that Hades would show some semblance of acknowledgment to his words. Contrary to expectations, Hades was too busy contemplating another matter entirely.
Frowning, Loki could only continue.
"Although we want to stop the alliance from forming, none of us are the prime leaders of our factions and as such we need an incentive to convince our leaders," he said strongly, the Gods around nodded their heads and even Hades had to concede this point. "I have discovered that incentive."
Loki drew out his arms and opened his hands to activate a Norse Magic Sigil branded on his palms. Upon release, a series of magical information directly entered the thoughts of all Gods present, shocking them as traces of avarice soon appeared.
"…Is this information true?" Hades was the first to ask, his tone hard. Along with Hades' question came a steady pressure that brooked no deceit, something Loki was known for.
In his true form and without any countermeasures, it was as if a vice was gripping Loki's being as Hades stared him down. His pride made it so that he appeared unaffected, but inwardly he was making plans to escape if the God of Death suddenly turned on him.
Under Hades' gaze, he nodded his head.
"It's true," he said. "After observing Michael of the Seraphim in the past couple of weeks, I've noticed that his connection with the One God's system is all but severed, only tiny strands of power binding him to it."
Other than the surprise Sirzechs gave everyone by challenging Ra with his strength alone, the system of the One God was still the only countermeasure the Faction of the Bible had relied on to repel the advancement of the other Pantheons. If Michael was no longer connected to it, then the possibility of usurping control existed.
No single God could resist the allure due to the fact that even minor Gods could become powerhouses with the sheer faith God's System contained.
Given this reasoning, should an attack on the Bible Faction succeed, then the leaders of the individual factions wouldn't complain if they were offered the might of God's System as a spoil of war. Better yet, would the Gods who obtained God's System even have to relinquish control?
Caught in their greed, only a few of the Gods present questioned just why Michael's connection to God's System would suddenly sever.
Loki was one of them, but he would never bring it up as it would be a detriment to his aims.
Hades was of the same mindset as he thought it beneath the Greeks to form an alliance with others. However, God's System wasn't the only point he was interested in. Just thinking about the gleeful expression on Poseidon's face as he returned to his Domain in the seas wielding two Tridents caused Hades to frown in jealousy.
The Cyclops had been fair when crafting the weapons of the Big Three of Olympus. One for each brother, but now with Poseidon possessing two, Hades inwardly glowered just as much as Zeus probably was.
"Before we commit to any large-scale attack, I have two condition to obtain my participation," Hades spoke directly to Loki, raising up a boned finger up. "One, I am not to be commanded, and two, there's a task I need completed before all else."
Loki considered Hades's words, and didn't have much problems with it. Hades's wasn't the only High-God in attendance, but the fact that they were technically within an Underworld greatly boosted Hades's parameters along with those of his Reapers.
Loki didn't seek to command the God of the Dead, only to use him. Therefore, he could agree with the first term. It was only the second that caused him to hesitate.
"And what task needs to be completed first?" He asked tentatively.
Rather than speaking, Hades produced a large spectral flame in his palm, detailing the image of a human that caused the other Gods in attendance to gasp in understanding. Only Loki was left out of the loop, and it caused apprehension to arise from within him.
It was just a human wasn't it? His mouth thinned, unable to comprehend the hesitance of the other Gods in attendance.
Naturally, the human displayed within Hades's spectral flame was Shirou.
Shirou's ability to create another Trident for Poseidon was the most memorable moment within the dimension of water. Many Gods had even grown wary at that point. Although most speculated that Shirou had only been able to create Poseidon's Trident because he had seen or come into contact with it, it still didn't alleviate the irrational panic of somehow having their treasured weapons in the hands of another. Worse, Shirou was clearly a member of the Bible Faction.
Most Gods couldn't tolerate this fact but were forced into suppressing their intents as the leading Gods didn't express signs of attacking. Poseidon even went as far as bestowing Shirou with his favour, ergo the God of the Sea's protection.
What Hades wanted by asking for Shirou's capture was evident to all, yet the matter of which faction Shirou should belong to after his capture was something that the High-Gods in attendance would definitely fight over.
Still, would it be that easy to capture someone that was so clearly valued in the Bible Faction?
Every God present turned to Loki with a peculiar expression, causing the God of Lies and Deception to feel as if he was missing something as a whole when he eventually agreed to Hades' request.
Yet no matter how much he inquired, no God answered his question because they all understood a single point.
Hades had sent Loki out unknowingly to test the waters.
He had dealt with many things in his most recent years of life, but Adelina was another thing entirely. She didn't act like most women he knew.
All that she seemed to care about was being near him and for her efforts to be acknowledged by him. Anything else, didn't matter.
Unfortunately for him, that meant that she was indifferent to the opinion of others. Therefore, even as the situation escalated in the building, she maintained her composure.
The sheer mess that had formed in the building hosting the Young Devil's Gathering was only quelled when Falbium personally intervened, the man's brow twitching incessantly as he lamented at the fact that Grayfia had all but forced him to do it.
He couldn't understand how Sirzechs tolerated the woman let alone loved her enough to have a little brat. She was just too commanding, her personality giving no grounds for compromise, yet Sirzechs fell for her still? He was well acquainted with Sirzechs since young, but he was delving into territory he didn't want to think about anymore. Instead, he was more focused on the irony of the situation when he arrived to settle the scene.
Falbium stared hard at Shirou. Unlike many who were purposely made unaware of his identity, Falbium could still see the traces of the compassionate Demon he had met in the Civil War.
A man of steel-like integrity.
And the very same bronze coloured eyes that wouldn't hesitate before taking action.
Regrettably, rather than being surrounded by enemies at all sides like the days of the Civil War, the new enemies surrounding him were green-horned youth unexposed to the hardship of the past. The only reason they fought wasn't for the sake of their homes or loved ones, but because of personal idolization and infatuation.
It was almost infuriating to think that he had led countless Devils in the Civil War to fight for a generation of idiots who were failing to understand just who it was that they were scorning. Even if Shirou's skin tone and appearance slightly differed from the past, he still had many similarities to the statue of Marbas erected at both at the Capital city of Lilith and the lands of Marbas.
Was no one able to understand this point?
Falbium sighed, questioning his life choices as his body began to slump before he realized that the witch of a woman behind him would be quick to amend any signs of lethargy.
You are a Great Satan of the Underworld, she would say while nearly breaking his arms. Do not sully the image.
The number of times he had considered resigning in the past were too much to count. However, Grayfia was right about his image.
As one of the Four Great Satans, none of the youths causing trouble in the Young Devil's Gathering dared continue. Instead, they could only watch heatedly as Falbium all but sighed as he led Shirou and Adelina away from the crowd.
For the most part, only Shirou was apologetic for the event, a hint of self-derision in his eyes as he understood that he had all but proved Kuroka's conjecture of him. Yet was it really his fault?
His expression gradually blanked as he got thinking. Maybe it wasn't him who got into trouble per say, but those around him who got him into trouble instead?
Yes, yes, it all made sense now.
His back gradually straightened in profound understanding, unwilling to believe in the misfortune that trailed his every step.
For example, If Rin hadn't decided to battle in Homurahara School Grounds, he probably wouldn't have nearly died for the first time.
And if Xenovia had left him alone in the Church Creak, maybe he'd still be training in seclusion rather than causing trouble everywhere?
The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became. However, illusions were meant to be shattered.
"I swear, you are a magnet for trouble," Falbium spoke off-handily while opening the door to his study and letting everyone in.
Falbium's temporary study was located at the heart of the building housing the Young Devil's Gathering. A bed could be seen near the far wall lined with thick quilts and soft pillows, but oddly, the entire thing was surrounded by a layer of magical seals. It was the same for the recliner, the sofa, and the patio table. Only the desk at the center of the room was free of magical seals and Shirou could hazard a guess as for their purpose.
Grayfia really was too strict of a woman.
After hearing Falbium's words, a strained expression appeared on Shirou's face, but Falbium didn't even seem to notice, more preoccupied with making sure that Grayfia had actually left to attend to other matters. Once Falbium was certain that the witch of a woman was gone, he was quick to sit onto his desk, slouch, and then sprawl his upper body over the oaken surface.
"Haaah, the true sign of a winner is one who does not work in life," Falbium murmured while getting comfortable.
Adelina clicked her tongue at Falbium's behaviour.
"Oh, you don't agree with me Ms. Swiftblade?"
Adelina's only response was to cross her arms. She had always been a serious kind of woman who took training and obligations as the only means of progression. Therefore, Falbium's current state irked her.
Falbium raised a brow before he shrugged. "You may not be able to agree with me now, but what if one day in the future you could settle down into a quiet home with your Lord Marbas at your side?"
Adelina stiffened, Shirou himself feeling a piercing stare at his back that only continued to intensify.
Damn it Falbium, what are you playing at?! He already had enough trouble with Serafall and the others as it was.
A minute passed, then two, and in the tense silence, Shirou felt as if a noose was tying around his neck.
"…Go on," Adelina's voice sounded behind him, the fervor of her tone unable to be hidden.
He began to consider just where he had gone wrong in life.
Falbium was definitely a genius.
He sighed as he watched Adelina steadily work her way through the tasks that had been meant for Falbium while the man himself had long since returned to his estate without Grayfia's supervision.
Falbium offered Adelina bait and like a fish, she had readily bitten onto the hook, unable to escape the trap. In exchange for enlightenment, Falbium's condition was evident enough.
Adelina would take over Falbium's current duties, and in turn, Falbium would impart his knowledge. Of course this meant that Adelina now had the responsibility of ensuring the integrity of the Young Devil's Gathering for the remainder of the day.
Even if he could admit that Adelina had grown up from the little girl of the past, it was clear that she heavily lacked in social experience much like Xenovia. She never even considered the fact that she may be able to ask someone more knowledgeable on the matter than Falbium like her peers around her for example.
He considered pointing this out to her, but seeing her stubborn determination, he decided against it.
Growing up, the composition of Adelina's face became more refined. Her prominent cheek bones gave her an elegant aesthetic and combined with her long hair framing her head and a healthy complexion, she was a beauty worth fighting for. Presently, beads of sweat were trailing down her brows, and every so often she would glance at him to make sure he was still there. Inwardly she was actually conflicted. She made a deal with Falbium, but at the same time she knew that Shirou had no obligation to remain near her yet she didn't want him to leave.
Knowing Adelina like he did, it wasn't difficult to understand what was going through her mind. Therefore, he resolved himself as his expression softened.
He wasn't heartless, and he stayed near her for the entire duration.
There was something about the silence between the two that reminded them of the days spent training in the Civil War.
Gradually, the sternness of Adelina's face began to vanish until it was impossible for him not see the child of her youth, a smile tugging on her lips. It was the bond and trust that had developed between them that Adelina had dearly missed.
They stayed like that for hours, the sound of Adelina's penmanship resounding over the oaken desk as she finished the tasks at hand.
The moment was only ruined when the cat-paw ornament Kuroka had given him activated again. With the timing of her call, it was clear what her purpose was.
He subtly looked down at the message he could see on the ornament.
"Meet me near the edge of the complex, I'll fill my end of the bargain there," the message said.
His brows furrowed.
He glanced up at Adelina and at the same time, she stared at him.
The depth of her gaze conveyed to him that she would never agree if he asked her to remain behind once again, but at the same time, he felt like allowing Kuroka to meet with Adelina wasn't a good idea. Even now, he wasn't sure of Kuroka's status in the Underworld, but he had a premonition that it was far from good. It showed in the caution he had seen Kuroka display in their last meeting when Serafall was arriving.
It was like she was a fugitive, yet Kuroka wasn't an evil woman based on the interaction he'd had with her.
He stood up onto his feet and began walking, the sound of Adelina's steps echoing his own and solidifying his conjecture that she would follow him. Worse, there was nothing he could say or do to persuade her otherwise.
He'd just have to hope that nothing would go wrong, but knowing his track record, his mouth steadily began to curve downwards.
The complex Kuroka was talking about in her message was pertaining to the very one he and Adelina had spent the majority of their day in. The very edge of the complex itself led to an open garden that spanned a view of an Underworld river reflecting the purple hue of the sky.
Standing near the river was Kuroka. She was still in the same kimono he saw her in from before, but the sash tying her clothes together was bound loose, exposing a large majority of her cleavage.
The anxiety and stress that had wrinkled her face from before was gone, her mouth curving upwards when she saw him.
"Thank you!" She said, running up to him.
If not for the fact that Adelina was glaring daggers at her, Kuroka may have had jumped him at that very moment. Instead, what happened was that the two women stared hard at each other, Kuroka in apprehension and Adelina in scrutiny.
Adelina had always stuck to simply managing the affairs of the Lands of Marbas so she never familiarized herself with the Underworld's most notorious. As such, the way she regarded Kuroka wasn't as a criminal, but a harlot attempting to assault her Lord.
Reading Adelina's expression, Kuroka grinned slyly and bypassed Adelina to directly embrace him with her arms.
If he could describe just how fast Adelina's expression darkened, he would have to say it was almost instantaneous; a vein bulging on her head, and the hand placed over the hilt of her long-sword trembling.
"Let go of him," she said sternly.
Kuroka acted as if she was considering Adelina's words, but in the end ignored them after rubbing her face against his own and releasing a purring noise.
Adelina's frigidness was almost palpable, the air growing dangerously still as the envy within her only fueled her mounting rage. She was her Lord's student, only she deserved to be that intimate with her master.
Just as Adelina was about to reach her breaking point, he had enough and pulled away from Kuroka's grasp.
"Are you done?" He asked.
She stared at him for a moment before shrugging. "I'm far from done," the way Kuroka emphasized her words nearly drove Adelina past the edge, her sword half-way drawn before Kuroka relented. "But I suppose it's enough for now."
Kuroka moved away from him and stood just shy of a meter in front of him.
"Hmmm, where should I begin?" She mumbled to herself before nodding. "First off, the information about the Khaos Brigade. Although it may seem that their members have all but disbanded, the thing you have to understand is that the Khaos Brigade isn't just composed by the interests of the Old Satan Faction."
As Kuroka began speaking, Adelina steadily became solemn due to the subject matter. Ignorant as she generally was to matters outside the Lands of Marbas, she had fought the Khaos Brigade first hand.
Kuroka stared at both him and Adelina before continuing.
"Rather than just the Old Satan Faction, the one's you have to be wary of are the Gods who had a hand in creating the Khaos Brigade and the Hero Faction currently operating in Kyoto," Kuroka paused for emphasis. "The ones the Bible Faction readily invited over to their domain."
He took a breath at Kuroka's admission while a sharpness entered Adelina's eyes.
Considering the warning Kuroka had once given him before, an idea formed in his mind.
"Loki?" he ventured.
Kuroka nodded. "He's one of the Gods involved with the Khaos Brigade which is why I cautioned you to be careful. Trickster Gods are said to be the worst adversaries to deal with in the various pantheons due to their unpredictability. Moreover, Loki isn't the only God of the Khaos Brigade, there's another who I'm not sure of the identity of."
He nodded to indicate he understood.
"Is there anything else?" He asked.
Kuroka shook her head. "That's all I know for the moment, but one of my friends has plans in regards to Loki so let's keep in contact in case I can be of help."
Adelina furrowed her brows while stepping forward.
"My Lord does not need your help," she said stubbornly, still miffed by Kuroka's past actions, only made worse by the fact the Kuroka ignored her again.
Kuroka smiled at him before leaving through a magic circle.
"I won't forget the favour you did for me," Kuroka said while leaving. she had only succeeded in her operation to secure Shirone thanks to Shirou drawing away the Dragon Tannin. "Remember to call."
"He won't," Adelina answered on his behalf, Kuroka's laughter the only thing echoing in the wind which fanned Adelina's anger.
Adelina became unnaturally silent.
He wouldn't fault her, nor would he comment.
He wasn't of the opinion to dig his own grave.
Instead, the only thing he wanted to do now was sleep and ready himself for the next meeting with the Gods in the coming morning.
As he walked, Adelina followed, the two left to their own thoughts in the dead of the night. His current lodging in the Underworld wasn't far from his current location and would only take him an hour walk from where he stood. Of course, he could reinforce himself and arrive within minutes, but something caught his eye as he and Adelina walked along.
Xenovia?
He could see her from where he stood on a forest trail leading to the city of Lilith where his accommodations were. She was in a clearing a short distance away, Durandal in one hand, and Durandal X in the other as she used the two swords to practice.
The last he had seen her was when she had separated from him with Serafall and Irina. The fact that she was alone practicing indicated that Serafall and Irina probably went their separate ways to train as well.
Seeing her, he made a detour towards her location.
As much as training allowed one to grow stronger, he didn't want Xenovia to overexert herself for his sake. Although she was socially awkward, she always meant well. Durandal would not have chosen an unworthy wielder after all.
When he and Adelina appeared in the clearing, Xneovia was quick to take notice of them.
She was panting for breath, a thin sheen of sweat coating her skin and reflecting the light of the moon. She wasn't wearing her white battle cloak but the tight form-fitting unitard the church considered battle attire.
"It's getting late, lets go rest," he urged her.
In response, she remained silent.
The strength she had seen Shirou wield even without the power of God or a Demon left her feeling inadequate. Unlike Serafall who had the power and means to stand by Shirou's side, she had been lacking ever since the events of the Excalibur Pieces.
For the first time in her life, she began to doubt her own strength and capabilities. She wanted to be at the side of the man she had gradually fallen in love with, yet feared that she was unqualified.
Her brows furrowed together as she pursed her lips.
She shook her head in response to Shirou's words and forced herself to continue training.
She wasn't even close to the power she had once seen Shirou wield Durandal with. If she could just reach that level then it would be enough.
She swayed on her feet as she readied her swords in front of her, Adelina nodding in approval as she briefly saw herself in Xenovia's tenacity.
Shirou though, was of a different mindset.
He thought back to the girl he had met at the Church Creak and knew that she had a penchant for overworking herself. He couldn't allow this to go on because he actually cared for her behalf.
He moved forward to interrupt her, but suddenly stilled in the next second.
Even in the Underworld, life existed in the forests. It was full of animals and birds scurrying in the foliage and underbrush, but presently, it was oddly silent.
He preened his ears, his actions catching Adelina's attention who also began to realize that something wasn't quite right.
It was something in the wind and the rustling of the leaves.
A faint noise that didn't belong.
The clomping of hooves.
"Don't you dare!" Adelina yelled out, her sword striking forward in an instant.
Steel clashed against flesh as Adelina forcibly pushed back her attacker who hastily fled. In the instant the attacker had attacked though, Adelina was quickly able to deduce the person's identity.
A Minor God?
Unlike regular Gods, minor Gods consisted of the prayer's mankind had once made to rivers and statues granted divinity through faith. Without a proper Religion however, the faith was never concentrated enough for a Minor God to upgrade their capabilities and thus they were only equal in level to High-Class Devils.
The one that had just attacked was a Minor Earth Deity, its body made entirely out of rock.
Eyes glancing from Shirou to the fleeing enemy, Adelina hesitated on what to do but eventually pursued after reassurance from Shirou.
Adelina was as fast as her namesake, disappearing into the distance in seconds.
Only when Adelina was gone did Shirou harden his expression.
"Come out," he called, looking into the woods.
The reason he got Adelina to chase after the other opponent was that he had a feeling that she wasn't suited to face the true adversary in the dark. Not with the strength of Divinity he could feel.
"I'm surprised a human was able to notice me," Loki revealed himself riding on an eight-legged horse.
Staring at Shirou, the unease Loki had felt about Hades's task returned. It didn't help that the steadiness of Shirou's eyes reminded him of Thor.
He shook his head, ridding himself of his doubts. At the end of the day, who he was dealing with was just another life form beneath that of Gods, Angels, or Devils, a mere Human.
He was Loki, God of Deceit and Lies, bringer of Ragnarök and he feared no Human.
Nordic runes surrounded him, spreading outwards to form a dome that enveloped the area, preventing anyone from noticing what was occurring.
"Sleipnir," he called to the horse he was riding.
It was the eight-legged stallion of Nordic Legend, the mount of the All Father and a child of Loki. Although it was Odin's mount, it would obey its father's will.
It neighed, its robust size exuding the might of a divine beast on the level of the Pegasus.
Its hooves echoed the trembling of the earth, its speed capable of traversing the nine realms of the World Tree.
Loki had called on Sleipnir's use for the sole fact that none could match its agility. No mortal weapon could reach it, no man able to swing their steel fast enough.
And yet, why was he feeling that it was still inadequate?
He stared down at Shirou and urged Sleipnir to quickly whisk Shirou away.
Meanwhile all Shirou did was stare, God informing him of the capabilities of the horse approaching.
It was an enemy whose speed could make it impossible to hit?
His circuits thrummed from within him, converting the energies of faith and magic through the circuitry of his being.
He pulled Xenovia to stand behind him as his eyes flashed with an azure glow, sparks forming over his palms reminiscent to bolts of lightning.
He was the Bone of his Sword.
It didn't matter how evasive an enemy was, for the spear manifested within his inner reality would surely hit.
A prototype.
His arms positioned themselves forward, the spear forming in his hands fluctuating with ancient Nordic Runes that came alive over the spear's tip, wisps of crackling magical energy singeing the ground.
Loki's eyes widened unbelievingly, realization dawning on him.
T-That was-!
Its aim was true.
The skies of the underworld seemed to darken, Rossweiss still in the Human word intaking a sharp breath.
The feeling.
The aura.
An energy that was unnoticeable or insignificant in the eyes of the other Gods began permeating through dimensions, making its way to those residing within the Nine Realms.
It was an imperial decree resounding with the reverberation of the Raven's caw.
The Eyes of Odin.
The Swaying One of Old Norse.
"Gungnir," the Spear that never Misses.
It didn't matter how agile Sleipnir could be with its eight-legs able to simultaneously move in any direction, once Gungnir was thrust, there was only one result that awaited.
The spear of the All Father struck forward, piercing and heavily injuring Sleipnir enough that the horse collapsed right before Loki's eyes.
Loki on his part was stunned before his composure shattered.
Gungnir?
How was it possible.
If he was really against Gungnir, then even his own life would be in danger.
Forget capturing Shirou, Loki felt it best that he kill the human and save himself any future troubles.
A Grand Nordic Spell erupted from around him, blanketing the skies in intertwining runes and sigils that thrummed with untold power. From his palm he released an ethereal crystal, its light bridging a road to the Heavens and powering the Nordic Seal.
The Light of Alfheim.
This was his strongest attack using up the majority of his divinity. There was no way any mortal could survive it, Gungnir or not. He didn't care if Hades refused to aid him. All he needed was to disrupt the Alliance anyway.
"Kuan," he invoked the Nordic Rune of Fire, Malady, and Death.
An invisible pressure descended down from the heavens, sigils wrought with fluctuating power expanding forth into a weapon that bore down from above. It was no sword, no spear, no armament of any sort, just unadulterated magical energy powered by the light of the Elves of Alfheim of the Nine Realms. The world of incinerating light.
The attack formed in an instant, unable to be stopped through ordinary means.
Unfortunately, Gungnir wasn't the only weapon Shirou had in his possession.
As the Grand Nordic Spell struck down with impunity.
An orb formed in his left hand, a sword's blade emerging from the tip.
That Which Comes Later Yet Cuts First
The Gouging Sword of the War God and the ultimate form of a counter attack.
Fragarach, the Retaliator, Divine Weapon of the Gods.
Noble Phantasm of the Fraga family enhanced by the true energy of the One God.
It was a weapon able to warp casualty, making it so that the sword would always strike first before an enemy's attack, rendering it null.
Ichor spewed forth from Loki's mouth, his gaze dropping to the hole gouged into his chest, vision swimming as the magic tying him to his attack severed in an explosion of intense heat and light. He couldn't understand it anymore.
What kind of Human was he facing?
A spear that never misses, and a sword of retaliation, the combination alone was absurd.
His body unwillingly crumbled to the ground, his resentment for Hades and the other Gods mounting as he theorized what they were using him for. Revenge was the first thought forming in his mind, but it would come later. Slowly, Loki's body began to deteriorate, revealing the corpse of another person entirely.
It caught Shirou off guard, but before he could react, he heard Xenovia's muffled gasp from behind him.
Exhausted as she was from overtaxing herself, she could barely resist as Loki appeared in a bedraggled state and bound her in his divinity, the Durandals in her hands sealed away by numerous restraints.
"Come with me or the girl dies," Loki said in a rasp.
The loss of another fragment of his divinity had greatly weakened him, but it didn't mean that he was incapacitated or that he was out of trump cards.
No matter what, it was true that regardless of what Shirou did, it wouldn't be fast enough to save Xenovia if Loki was truly intent on killing her.
The fact that Xenovia had become a liability at this moment greatly weighed down on her mind. She tried to speak, but found that she was unable to under Loki's suppression.
Damn it.
D-Damn it all.
She cursed, closing her eyes as tears of frustration welled up from within her. She had worked so hard to not end up in such a situation and yet it happened regardless.
She understood that the people she was comparing herself to were leagues above her, yet was the gap really that big just because she was human?
In her misery and self-doubt, something within her began to stir.
There was a reason why Shrou was first transported to the creak of a small church.
The pieces stored within him.
Memories of Heroes of Old.
Xenovia was neither Devil, Angel, Fallen, or God, but Human. A race short-lived, but whose potential was unmatched, and she was unique.
She wasn't overly strong, nor did she truly stand out in any other way compared to other women who worked just as hard as her. But unlike others, she was acknowledged by swords; a natural sword user, the light within her one of purity and grace.
Time seemed to stand still, thoughts lasting an eternity and reflecting a presence unlike anything Loki had felt before.
It was oppressive yet not, violent yet calm, like a tranquil tide or the clinking of massive gears.
Loki didn't know when it happened, but it was if he could feel the edge of a blade pressing up against his skin, and the feeling originated from the girl caged within the shackles of his divinity.
In Xenovia's moment of guilt, and helplessness, a sword answered her call.
She didn't want to be weak.
She didn't want to be a burden.
Durandal X thrummed in her bound hands, the sword whose legend spoke of the miracles held within the peerless might of its blade, radiating out with an ethereal teal coloured glow. Sharp and poised, the magical restraints binding its power shattered one by one until the aura of its grandeur could no longer be hidden.
A catalyst linking one world with another.
-Thou who art clad in steel and battle born instinct; those who fight fate with thy sword.
Loki's eyed widened in shock before he was forced away from Xenovia by a wave of foreign magic.
A link to the throne spanning out across the sky and piercing through the barrier concealing the area like a honed and sharpened blade.
Loki's expression darkened, unable to understand what was going on, yet comprehending what was happening was the least of his troubles.
What did it mean for the situation now that he was no longer holding Xenovia hostage?
He cursed inwardly while directing his attention away from Xenovia and back towards Shirou, but even then, he was surprised with what he saw. Rather than use the opportunity to make a move on him, Shirou did something completely unexpected, a monument modeled in the shape of a Knight manifesting in his hands.
The Servant of the Sword.
There was an air of regality surrounding it that spoke of a certain grandeur no longer seen in the present age of man.
When swords and shields were the pinnacle of all weapons and the most one could rely on was the skill of their blades.
The heat of their mettle, the vigour of their shouts, and the courage of their hearts.
A time of war, blood shed, and glory long since passed.
Man and sword.
Heroes and Legend.
Bearers of Sacred Steel.
It was a calling that came from the soul. A resonance from one who bore a Sacred Sword and the predecessors spanning across time.
The monument of Saber surged forward, melding into Xenovia's body and fading. She who was already chosen as the natural wielder of Durandal felt something reverberate within her, her eyes closing while accompanied by the squalling of a drawn blade.
It made Loki's skin crawl.
Nothing felt right.
Not the way the situation had gone, or the ill foreboding steadily working through him.
Something flashed in his eyes.
A human should not be able to output such an aura.
It was as if he was no longer looking at a simple mortal any longer.
Yet regardless of what had just taken place, Loki knew he had to leave. Without the barrier concealing the area, it would only be a matter of time before enemy reinforcements arrived, and Sirzechs wasn't someone he wanted to openly confront in his true body.
Unfortunately, it wouldn't be that easy.
As he turned to move, the one he was still the weariest of was Shirou and the absurdity of his abilities. Therefore, he neglected to pay attention to what was occurring near him, and by then it was too late.
Xenovia stood before him, something in her eyes causing a chill to travel down his back.
Words were not said.
Nothing wasted.
Only the tip of a blade pointed forward.
Thanks for Reading!
P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious
Next Update: Hero and Sword
Note: Update are going to be sporadic from the 10th-17th because of final exams