Chapter 24

The leaves rustled in the ensuing wind, a cacophony of steel, blood, and emotions coagulating and stifling the air.

Shirou didn't care, instead he was pressed to react in time towards the approaching attacks and the magi encircling him. Already they had blocked his view of Arturia, and the anxiety was causing him to panic. He had seen the expression on her face, and heard the desperation in her voice just before she escaped his view. But at this point, all that he hoped for was that she would listen to him.

To run away.

He had agreed to fight alongside her, yet the situation was different. He had agreed in the context that who they would be facing would be regular knights and people, not Magi. The danger they posed to Arturia was magnitudes greater than even the worst of any war. Especially now that they knew she possessed a Magic Core.

The Durandal in his hands flashed with a dull glow, thin wisps of magical energy trailing from the sword's edge, and releasing a splendor that was unmatched by any mortal weapon.

None dared approach him lightly. Which was why aside from the few magi specialized in close combat, the rest had sent out ranged attacks to whittle away at him.

A magical storm was racing towards him and his body was still sluggish from tracing Durandal, the exertion draining him of too much energy at one time.

The strength of a Noble Phantasm originated from the crystallization of its legend. Then what would it mean if a Noble Phatasm was created before its time? It was something he had just tested for the first time in his anxiousness to save the woman who meant the world to him. In the end, he had expended far more effort to trace Durandal when compared to other Noble Phantasms like Gae Bolg or Hrunting whose legends were already set in stone.

It was something he had to do. After all, none could match the efficiency possessed by the Miracles of the sword of the Holy Paladin of Charlemagne. Not only was it strong, but it allowed him to bring no danger to Arturia and Efret as he prayed to actualize the miracle in his attack. Other Noble Phantasms would not allow him this level of selection, annihilating anything in their paths.

But it came with a price.

He staggered in the face of the oncoming attacks, forcing his body to move despite needing a short moment to recover. Yet his efforts proved too slow.

The first attack to reach him was a spike of hardened earth that was moments away from piercing though his skin before suddenly slackening and crumbling away.

The second to reach him was a magus who had a stretched hand encased in magic about to stab into Shirou's chest.

Victory was clear in this magus's eyes, and all it would take was but a mere half second before impact.

Yet the expression on the magus's face began to shift, distorting horribly as an incomparable source of wind brutally caved his chest in and sent the man flying.

Boom!

The Magus continued to tumble across the ground, long since dead.

In front of Shirou stood Arturia, her expression livid before growing steadily neutral in the tenseness of the situation. Recalling how close Shirou had been to being injured again, her expression began to shift.

The attacks by the magi suddenly stopped; their intentions to gauge the strength of this new variable in their plans. It would seem as if the owner of the Magic Core had suddenly grown into a threat.

"If you touch him," Arturia's voice was heated, her expression murderous. "I'll kill you."

The hands she was holding her sword with were shaking from how tightly she gripped them. It was evident that she was unused to killing another, but wouldn't hesitate to act should her warning be ignored.

In any case, looking at the corpses bleeding out over the ground, she had already set a frightening example.

This was the strength of a Magic Core.

The strength of a possessor of Dragon's blood.

Energy flooded through Arturia's body, coursing up and down her arms and increasing the grip she had on her sword. It was one personally reinforced by Shirou himself. Sharp enough to cut stone like a hot knife through butter, and durable enough to endure excavating itself from flesh, bone, and steel, it was the perfect accompaniment to her strength.

It was a sword capable of withstanding the sudden burst of mana throbbing through Arturia's veins. She could feel it. The ache of her body as she unknowingly experienced this technique for the first time.

Mana Burst. A skill that increased the performance of the caster by infusing one's weapons and body with Magical Energy and instantly expelling it, creating the effect of a jet blast. However, this ability utilized a great deal of energy

Due to the sheer magical power Arturia had stored within her, she couldn't even feel a dip in her strength.

Having bought time for Shirou to recover, it didn't take long before he was suddenly at Arturia's side, striking down magi after magi attempting to encircle them.

It was at that point that they were separated, pulled apart by an unseen force generated from the magic of one of the magi.

Arturia was the first to discover the user of this magecraft, and without hesitation, she picked up a rock and threw it.

With the use of Mana Burst, the rock was equivalent to a bullet utilized in Shirou's previous timeline, penetrating a hole directly through the magus's chest.

"What?" Lusanna sucked in a breath at the sudden display and retracted her bees monitoring the area. She was of the Borzak family, a prominent magus family known for the use of their bee familiars. In her case, it was a bee of a pale white colour that dripped a clear corrosive liquid on the ground from its stinger.

Lusanna immediately began backing away to gain distance away from the battlefield, yet was forced to splutter out a curse as a blade whizzed past her ear. "Bitch!" Lusanna wiped of the blood trailing down her cheek and clutched tightly onto the lock of hair that fell from her head.

The air pressure alone from Arturia's strike had cut into Lusanna's skin, drawing a flesh wound.

Lusanna's cursing was a mistake. She wasn't facing another magus, she was facing a future Knight. In the words of Sir Ector: Words were unnecessary.

The second strike came before Lusanna could even discern it. The absurd level of magical capacity Arturia possessed allowing her a continues use of Mana Burst.

Lusanna was hard pressed to dodge this time. Arturia's speed and power were like a wide and oncoming horse-drawn carriage slamming against an ant.

Almost as a reflex, Lusanna sent an instruction to her bee, a stream of acid showering over her. Subsequently, Arturia was forced to abandon her attack, lest the acid touch her too. Diggin her feet into the ground, Arturia then began to back pedal, spinning as she crouched and sliced a part a man that was attempting to attack her from behind.

Blood splattered across her face, leaving large droplets that rolled down her cheeks as she stared emotionlessly at Lusanna. It was almost as if she wasn't human. There was no blood lust in her gaze, nor was there any grief, mercy, or indignation. It was just utterly blank, Arturia having fallen into a battle-ready state.

What the hell is wrong with this bitch? Lusanna swallowed staring at the scene, and then realizing that she herself was facing this very monster with a Magic Core. Looking down at her arms, she realized that she was trembling, a paleness forming over her face.

It was then that she met eye contact with Lord Archibald staring at the scene from a distance not too far away. As the both of them had come from prominent magus families, the two had once had dealings with each other. It only took a glance and a small moment for Lusanna's plea of help to be acknowledged by Lord Archibald.

However, it took even less time for Shirou to intervene, blocking Lord Archibald's path while leaving a trail of sword light from the Durandal still in his hands.

Lord Archibald paused, and considered his next steps, shaking his head at Lusanna.

Lusanna's lip twitched in the infinitely short exchange and decided it would be best if she made her move first. Her hands then went over her mouth where she then placed two fingers inside, pushing her tongue up to the roof of her mouth.

Gagging and choking sounds soon followed, but not once did Lusanna's calm eyes leave Arturia's. The magic seal beneath her tongue began to activate, a buzzing noise originating from her bee familiar and echoing from within her mouth.

The mandibles on Lusanna's bee familiar suddenly split apart, a thin film of moist saliva lingering between the separated ends.

Arturia tightened the grip she had on her sword. Her instincts were telling her to be extremely weary. No matter how disturbing the scene in front of her was, she could not allow herself to be distracted.

Bzzzz.

A ringing was originating in her ears, and it was disturbing her.

She felt liquid trickling down her neck, and quickly she raised a hand to swipe away at it, only to realize that it was blood.

Bzzzzzz.

The buzzing was getting worse, the wingbeats from Lusanna's familiar becoming more frequent.

The hand she had used to wipe away the blood soon fell onto her ears, the source of where the blood was coming from, yet she couldn't detect anything wrong with her. She could still hear, and her sense of balance wasn't off. Then what was going on?

She didn't hesitate.

Knowing that she was under the enemy's attack even from her distance away, Arturia immediately charged.

Mana Burst exploded with all of its pent-up power, propelling her forward at unimaginable speeds beyond that of a human. Her strength soared along with her defense by several times over.

Dirt stuck to the heels of her feet, her arms propping themselves into a position for a swing.

Lusanna having never taken her eyes off of Arturia was already moving from the moment she noticed the shifts in Arturia's stance. Lusanna's legs spread apart, her brows creasing as she hunched over. Her jaw suddenly dislodged, her mouth hanging open as a swarm of bees shot out in an ending stream that Arturia was unable to avoid.

She slammed right into the wall of buzzing bees, swinging away with her sword. It was then that she noticed something. Sweat began to form on her brow, her body growing increasingly uncomfortable at the sudden emergence of heat.

Her clothes stuck closely to her skin, dragging against it and increasing the feeling of discomfort.

The bees were madly vibrating their abdomens around her, forcing her to realize the extent of the danger she was. She would be cooked alive.

Mana Burst once again exploded out from within her, the sudden expulsion of magical power used to drive her up and directly out of the swarm. Yet arriving outside, she noticed that Lusanna was gone, and the bees that had once been attacking her floating away in a direction south of her position.

Arturia said nothing. After all, magi were still zoning in on her.

Seeing Arturia's situation, Shirou sighed in relief, noticing the danger level had significantly decreased around Arturia who had sustained injuries.

In that case, he turned all his attention on Lord Archibald who stood opposed to him.

Lord Archibald stared at Shirou and then stared back towards Arturia, a frown marring his deceptably neutral face.

The silver liquid around Lord Archibald then began to move along the ground, forming a sleek wall that acted as a wave that immediately moved to encompass Shirou.

Shirou saw through the true purpose of the attack. It was solely to push him out of the way because behind him was Arturia fighting against the other magi. All it would take to capture her was to prevent her from using her skills by immobilizing her within the magic laced silver liquid.

A sea of the stuff just might be enough to even stop Arturia.

Shirou acted quickly. Based on the expression on Lord Archibald's face, the man didn't expect him to be able to ward of this attack. After all, physical strikes would only be fazed through.

Then what if he could cut the magic itself?

Just before he was swept within the wave, a red spear appeared within his hands, the Durandal in his other fading away.

Lord Archibald looked towards the scene with little concern, his gaze shifting quickly towards the target to be acquired. He would subdue her, and then quickly leave. Even if she had a power strong enough to cleave others magi in half with a single stroke, it would do nothing in the face of a liquid substance.

Unexpectedly though, a ripple formed in his silver liquid. His brows furrowed minutely, wondering if he had lost control over his craft. After all, for a moment he could feel his influence on the silver liquid falter almost completely.

Such a thing had never happened before.

Lord Archibald's posture quickly straightened, his lip twitching as a portion of the once liquid silver became solid and shattered, revealing the red tip of a spear.

A-Another Noble Phantasm?

Lord Archibald couldn't help but inwardly balk before uncrossing his arms and using them to directly control his silver liquid.

It moved like water, attacking in high pressure jet streams.

Yet Shirou blocked by rotating the spear in a large circle.

Lord Archibald was beginning to question himself on his actions. Incident after incident continued to occur in a mission he had deemed inconsequential. It should have been easy. Hell, it actually was.

From before the fight had even began, the Magic Core had already fallen into his grasp. But it was all taken away by the emergence of the boy he neglected completely on his first exchange.

Now though, he would have to reassess his thoughts on the boy.

Shirou knew nothing of what Lord Archibald was thinking. He just focused solely on the attacks surrounding him.

His magical reserves were not like Arturia's. Having fought so many other magi, and even traced a Noble Phantasm that had yet to exist, it was almost too much for him to maintain. It was the reason why amongst all the Noble Phantasms he could have had utilized to neutralize Lord Archibald's attack, Gae Dearg was the one he decided on. It was simply because its effect of negating magic was something that didn't require activation. It was a passive ability.

At this point, all he had to rely on was his own skill. Unknowingly, because of his near depleted condition, something began to stir.

As Shirou continued to ward away the attacks of Lord Archibald, a symbol etched into the very hunting leathers Shirou wore began to glow with a luster comparable to that of polished silver. It began from the base of the crudely drawn wings curved upwards to encircle the runic-like lines centered at the middle of the crest before traveling up to the long protrusions at its sides.

It was the activation of a Magic Crest; magical power flowing in indiscernible waves into an ignorant Shirou and out into his surroundings.

Efret's eyes widened, it's beak opening to screech at the sky. Having been caught unaware and captured, it had been useless throughout the entire fight. Now, now things were different. The magical energy fell over Efret, coating over it and permeating through its skin and into its body.

The wisps of fire around an injured Efret began flickering from a dull orange to a fiery red, its wings beginning to beat as the anger in its gaze grew.

Ba-bump.

Ba-bump.

Veins began to bulge, feathers began to flutter, and talons shifted into serrated arcs of pulsing azure emitting an agonizing heat.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Long ago there was a folk tale of old known to the inhabitants of the late town of Argale. It told of the coming of the Great Shadow.

Look not to the ground, and

Fear not the greed of man.

The skies, the skies.

Look up above.

Towards the roaring crackle of the Red Tide.

A caw resounded in the night, a beacon of light blazing in the darkness.

A body that was once small had become larger and larger.

Ba-BuMp.

BA-BUMP.

It was audible. The sound of a heart-beat echoing out.

Night turned into day, a blazing red sun engulfing the horizon of the entirety of the small town of Roan.

The natives of the America's called such a Phantasmal Beast a Fire Bird, others, in the lands across the seas, a Phoenix.

One of the most iconic and renowned beasts of legend able to be mentioned in the same breath as a Dragon.

And its name,

Was Efret.

A burst of heat shot off from the bird, covering it behind a wall of rapidly expanding hellfire.

It was a torrent of flame the likes of which reduced a man into ashes that continued to burn as embers in the wind.

Everyone on the battlefield gave pause, even Shirou was momentarily stunned, his eyes trailing down towards the flow of magical power he had just tapped into from the Ashton Magic Crest. At that moment, he realized that although he didn't have as much proficiency in utilizing the Magic Crest, Efret did. And it was through this that he finally understood why it was that Efret had suddenly grown in size.

The Magic Crest possessed a massive portion of Efret's strength.

And that strength was terrifying.

With a flap, the world burned.

With a step, the ground melted.

It was like suddenly stepping into the heart of a volcano and meeting the devil.

Efret had become huge, long enough to engulf the entirety of the abandoned estate with its wing span alone.

Lord Archibald could never have had known that what he had once subdued prior to the battle was a beast this tyrannical. Of the later generations of the Archibald family, none would ever surpass this achievement even amongst other prominent magus families.

All attacks towards Shirou and Arturia were suddenly redirected towards the increasingly aggravated Efret. It had seen the situation Shirou was placed in.

Seen the way the magi had targeted its precious young master.

The call for blood soared through its veins like a thick adrenaline.

Efret cocked its head back, not even batting an eye as the numerous magical attacks were burned away by the flames that surrounded it.

It was then when Efret's large body disappeared that the magi knew, they had made the wrong decision.

A muffled scream reverberated in the night, flames slowly crawling up the arms and legs of many magi that refused to be put out. Almost as soon as the flames touched, the area inflicted would be nothing more than blackened ash.

"Tch," Lord Archibald reacted faster than anyone else, having been one of the main targets of Efret's sudden attack. The silver liquid around him had formed a protective dome to shield him from the brunt of the fire, yet it couldn't stop the heat from gradually permeating through his defenses.

Lord Archibald quickly made the prompt decision to leave. A Magic Core was not worth his life if he was not present to research it, or be in a position to leave it in his family's hands.

Just as he was leaving though, his expression shifted into an ugly frown. Steam was emitting from his protective dome, four distinct claw marks distorting the smoothness of his silver liquid.

Before he could even react, the heated claws had sliced straight though his defenses, stabbing him in the chest at four different locations. The expression on his face was one of rare surprise and irritation even at his own supposed death.

Yet things were never that easy.

Lord Archibald's body soon began to melt, transforming into a pool of silver liquid that evaporated in the flames.

Efret's gaze gradually became annoyed, tossing away the evaporating blob of silver liquid within its talons. It then appeared directly above Shirou and Arturia, wrapping the two beneath its pinioned wings. From within, neither Shirou or Arturia were affected by the swaying pillars of flame.

In the middle of the scorching flames, Efret appeared to be a monster with a strength that was unimaginable. It was more than enough to get many magi to decide to beat a hasty retreat as Lord Archibald had. After all, if a member of one of the most prominent Magus Families was rendered to such a state, then what would it mean for magi of lower rank?

Seeing the bloodlust in Efrets's eyes, the answer could only be one.

Death.

Many began to flee despite the opportunity they had to attack an exhausted Shirou and Arturia. It was simply not worth their lives, and besides, they would probably go into hiding later for their actions. Might as well try to get as far away as possible.

Still, based on the expressions of a few of them, it was clear that things were far from over.

Efret glanced in their direction, and the few that had the tenacity to stay behind instantly drew back. The scene of Efret drowning the area into a sea of flames was still etched into their minds. The pungent smell of burnt flesh irritating their nostrils.

Reluctantly, they all began making their exit. The area fell into a tranquil silence, the sound of crickets and bugs the only sound in the devastated field.

Soon after, Efret took to the skies, indicating to Shirou that it would warn him should any other magus draw near.

The two left alone, Arturia finally took the time to witness the results of her actions, her face paling after each body she glanced over. Pursing her lips, she said nothing, holding back the feeling of nausea that suddenly began to well up from within her. She had been taught by Sir Ector.

She was strong.

Something like this wouldn't affect her.

A King must endure.

Her expression frosted, the dried blood that stained her clothes and clung to her hair making her appear like an apathetic tyrant. Yet her expression softened as her gaze fell discreetly over Shirou, a tingling warmth originating from her stomach that heated her face.

For a moment, she just stood there, lost in the feeling.

He was in front of her with his back facing her, staring up into the skies for any signs from Efret. Even now he was still vigilant despite his injuries, and she knew for whose sake he was doing it for. And that was all that she needed to know to have no regrets or doubts about her actions.

If he could do this much for her, then she would do the same, no matter the cost.

So long as he was safe.

She was breathing heavily, her eyes drooping as she staggered on her feet.

Wordlessly, Shirou moved to support her, placing her arm around his neck and holding her close as he hoisted her up with his shoulder. Even amidst the violence of the battlefield, she still smelled of lilacs.

He couldn't help but want to berate her on her actions, but he couldn't find the heart to do it because it was entirely for a selfish reason. He was scared. Scared that something might have had happened to her. He had already lost her once, and that feeling alone was enough to drive him to search endlessly.

Yet, closing his eyes, he could vividly picture the outline of the woman who had once fought by his side.

He sucked in a breath, his grip around Arturia involuntarily strengthening as his heart decided to let the matter go. Unexpectedly, she returned the action, pulling herself close with her arm and resting her chin on his shoulder as the two walked.

"Shirou," she said wearily, her exhaustion beginning to affect her. "Are you okay?" Was the question she asked.

Rather than herself, she was more concerned about him.

He didn't respond, just nodded his head as Arturia's grip around him began to slacken.

After having used her Magic Core for the first time, the exhaustion was getting to her, making her every movement sluggish and weak. The lion cub that had remained on her head let out a pitiful roar, urging her on, but was generally ineffective in actually aiding her.

Still, supported by Shirou, she was able to walk for a moment longer.

"They won't come back, will they?" Arturia asked, her eyelids drooping. Her chin was still rested on Shirou's shoulder, and at this point, the majority of her weight was being carried by him. After speaking, she fell silent all together.

Feeling her warmth, and knowing of what she had just been through because of the selfishness of others, Shirou soon pulled her onto his back and off of her feet. She didn't offer much protest, her arms wrapping around his neck, and her head lulling over his shoulder, her cheeks touching his. Soft mumbles of indignation rolled out from her mouth, but he ignored them and held her firmly before she soon relaxed within his hold. The softness of her breath was soon the only sound in the dim-lit evening.

"No," he whispered softly under the watch of Arturia's bleary gaze. His expression was increasingly cold at that moment as he put to memory every single magus he had seen harboring animosity.

In the end, only three words left his mouth as he and Arturia left the open field.

"No," he repeated. "They won't."

The Madam stayed silent watching the scene that had unfolded; her expression beneath her veil, a shadow of the jealousy and loathing she kept within her.

"A pity," she spoke through clenched teeth, her eyes narrowing as she saw Arturia and the young magus support each other on their way out of the battlefield. This young magus was named Shirou, but she neglected to memorize it when she had first heard Merlin call his name. Now though, she couldn't help but place more importance on him after what she had just scene.

If she wasn't so preoccupied, perhaps she might have tried to nip him in the bud to prevent future troubles, but even then, she realized it would be difficult given the Noble Phantasms Shirou seemed to possess.

She had been too caught up in fighting Merlin at the time, and was also a considerable distance away to see just how those Noble Phantasms appeared, but regardless, they were authentic.

In the end, what kind of ancient magus family did he come from? Given his ability to possess Noble Phantasms, his family's lineage should not be any inferior to that of the Fraga family of magi. In fact, it could be even more prestigious.

The fact that Shirou was entrusted with Noble Phantasms meant that he must have had held some significance to his family. Meaning retaliation from a third party was a possibility should anything happen to him. This line of thought lead to a single question, was it beneficial to cross paths with him?

Her lips pursed, realizing how much more complicated the situation regarding Arturia became with the addition of a new variable.

And there was only a single individual who could have introduced such a variable.

She then turned to her right. "You cursed Wizard," she seethed.

Merlin paid the Madam no heed, the sword in his hand placed lightly against a barrier shielding the Madam's neck.

Judging from appearances alone, the clothes Merlin had worn were now in tatters. On the other hand, the Madam didn't seem to have so much as a scratch, yet it was clear who had gotten the advantage in the earlier exchange.

The Madam sneered in frustration, already plotting on how to handle the troublesome Wizard in front of her, yet unable to come up with anything. She could only resign herself to defending against the pressure Merlin was exuding. Even now she couldn't help but curse bitterly about the fact that the self-proclaimed strongest Wizard would be so proficient with a sword. It was infuriating.

She supposed she had no choice but to break this stalemate.

All around the nearby area surrounding the two, pot holes and broken debris were scattered everywhere. Remnants of splintered trees and burnt grass still stood erected, the lingering smoke rising slowly into the air and creating a haziness illuminated by the moon.

Merlin discarded a piece of torn fabric clinging to his sword arm, sparks flying from where his sword made contact with the Madam's barrier.

"Didn't expect my student to be so capable now did you?" Merlin rebuked, a playfulness in his womanizing eyes that infuriated the Madam.

After all, when one looked at Merlin's appearance it appeared as if the man had come out of the grinder, his clothes torn in various places. However, the Madam knew that he wasn't truly injured. Flesh wounds were all she had dealt, leading to the current stalemate.

"A student reflects the teacher, and you're not looking so great yourself," the Madam remarked, her fingers weaving magic to force the edge of Merlin's blade away from her neck. Even if the sword was blocked by a barrier, she knew better than anyone that Merlin would be able to bypass it given the opportunity.

It was time to act.

She wasn't a woman that was easy to handle after all.

Her magic visibly coalesced around her body, appearing in waves of shimmering purple fog-like haze. The grass beneath her feet began to whittle away, the ground darkening and appearing like the blackened colour of the pith left behind by the plants.

The strength Merlin had in his sword hand increased in an attempt to banish away the foul energy. He even acted as if the Madam had made no attempt on him at all, but it was clear from the tightening of his facial features that he was under strain.

The Madam could only click her tongue. It was no longer a fruitful endeavor to remain any longer. The magi attacking Arturia had failed, and any attempt on her part would prove futile with Merlin's interference.

The situation was entirely out of her predictions. She knew that she would be able to escape from Merlin's grasp in a fight, or even get the upper hand, and this was the reason she took the risk to confront him. With the information of the Magic Core in the heads of the magi, it was almost certain that a few would move against the infuriating little girl playing knight. Yet all this was assuming that Merlin had only the magic he was known for to rely on. It was unexpected that Merlin would now have her at sword point, and even more unexpected that Arturia had been able to garner the help of such a talented young magus.

It must have had been all Merlin's fault. She wished that she could just dispose of the Wizard, but doing so with her current strength would prove detrimental as they were near evenly matched. This was why it was important to keep abilities hidden. It would give less time for the other to prepare, and increase the chance of victory. In that regard, she had already lost out to Merlin by revealing one of her abilities as all Merlin had revealed was that he was proficient with a blade.

A hate filled light entered her pupils, shining with a dull luster as her mind lamented the unfairness of the world.

Despite resisting the effects of the Madam's magic, Merlin decided to stare back at Arturia, concerned on her behalf.

It was because of this action that allowed the Madam to escape Merlin's sword point.

The ground had given way beneath the two's feet do to the magic the Madam was releasing.

Immediately, the Madam took the opportunity to escape into the woods surrounding the abandoned manor.

Still, just before she left, she saw a contemplative expression on Merlin's face, thereby drawing her curiosity as Merlin did not pursue her immediately.

She turned towards the direction of Merlin's gaze and paused in her strides.

Merlin was still staring at Arturia and Shirou.

Initially the Madam had assumed that the two were only supporting each other due to their injuries, but looking closer, there appeared to be something more. The gaze Arturia was using to stare up at Shirou was too warm, too bright, the light of the moon illuminating the beauty of her face. It seemed as if nothing else mattered to Aturia aside from the boy who supported her, tentatively holding her close to ease the burden on her legs. Yet rather than stubbornly push Shirou away to stand on her own two feet, Arturia instead reciprocated the action; putting strength into the arm slung around Shirou's neck, and subsequently resting her chin on his shoulder.

The action was entirely unbecoming of a future Knight yet Arturia hardly seemed to notice.

Despite the dirt, grime, and blood staining her features, if anyone were to look at Arturia now, it would be impossible to mistake her as the boy she was playing off as.

There was a sort of tender air about Arturia at this moment, like an ever-present feeling that affected the area around her and Shirou limping off in the night. Bruised, battered, and tired, but still content to be beside each other. The Madam focused solely on the expression on Arturia's face.

The opening and closing of her mouth, as if she was short of breath, and the way her lips trembled as a warm mist formed from the coldness of the evening after every exhalation, it was telling.

It was clear that Arturia was ignorant, or chose to neglect her wants.

Either way, the Madam was a mature woman. How could the Madam not discern the affections of another woman no matter how dubious Arturia's upbringing was in a household of males?

Watching the two interact even as she left pursued by Merlin, for once, the Madam couldn't help but smile inwardly.

Well, wasn't this rather interesting?