The Black Prince, Alexander Gascoigne.
The man whom Harry had decided was his number one enemy, the fourth oldest living Campione.
Alexander Gascoigne was an intelligent man with boundless ambition, causing chaos wherever he went, the black prince.
Alexander was the leader of the Royal Arsenal, a mage association structured to dismantle the established magical elite. The Royal Arsenal was a true melting pot of the disenfranchised.
Its ranks included not only powerful, rogue magi and formidable occultists who focused purely on magic research, but also disillusioned scholars, street hoodlums, unrepentant thieves, and con artists who used magic for profit.
Most significantly, it even housed commoners and those of low ranks who sought bitter revenge against the aristocratic sorcerers of society who had established an order that had ruined their lives or caused the deaths of their relatives.
The collective motivation of the Arsenal was simple, the hatred for the status quo. It even allowed mudanes as long as they knew the existence of gods and possessed the will to stand against the ruling magical bodies, they found a home under Alex's banner.
The Royal Arsenal stood as the dark reflection of Witenagemot, the noble-led magical elite founded in the nineteenth century. Where the Witenagemot represented aristocratic order, filled with nobles, elites, and so on, Alex's Arsenal was rebellion incarnate, a revolutionary movement driven by resentment for those who cast them out.
Alexander, or Alex, was known worldwide to any who knew him as a master tactician and a brilliant leader.
But for Harry, these qualities were meaningless window dressing. He didn't give a damn about Alexander's reputation, the older Campione was simply an enemy that he was going to beat the hell out of when he got his hands on him.
Harry had sworn that if he ever got his hands on that bastard again, he would kill him, or at the very least, beat him within an inch of his immortal life. Why? one may ask. It was simple, this son of a bastard, and he had met over a year and a few months ago, and he had committed an unforgivable sin, and until he had settled that score and handed him a beating, he was not going to be satisfied.
Over A Year Ago
Rumors had spread across the world about an ancient, previously undiscovered tomb uncovered deep beneath Egypt's shifting sands. The discovery was not of a pharaoh's tomb or something like that, but of something far more valuable, a scroll had mentioned a grimoire of creation, magic from the time of the ancient Egyptians, or something like that. It spoke of the creation and birth, or was it healing, or so it was mentioned.
Harry, whose hobby was magic and its research, had immediately developed a possessive interest.
He had journeyed there, and Daphne accompanied him, chasing her own separate goal, a rare form of magic that might finally provide a stable, permanent cure for Astoria.
The tomb itself had been filled with magic, traps, wards, curses, and things that most wizards would have died from or taken months to make it through. Yet, against Harry, a Campione, mortal magic held no weight.
The enchantments and defenses fell apart before him like paper dissolving in water. He found the inner sanctum, a dizzying chamber carved out of bedrock, and laid hands on the artifact, a book that looked to be made of stone rather than paper. It was covered in Egyptian runes, and Harry couldn't help vibrate in excitement, but it seemed he wouldn't have the chance to read it.
Because that was the precise moment Alexander Gascoigne decided to show up.
The confrontation was instantaneous. Alexander, the thief prince, saw the grimoire as a prize and immediately tried to snatch it. Words were traded, things escalated quickly due to the stubborn nature of the bastard, and then they clashed.
In the mists of their spat, the grimoire seemed to awaken and just started to open up.
A tremor shook the very earth, and from the collapsing bedrock rose Geb, the Primordial of the Egyptian Pantheon, the Primal God of Earth, the physical manifestation of creation itself, akin to the Greek Gaea.
Even with the colossal Heretic God manifesting, Alex didn't stop his theft attempt. He seemed utterly unconcerned by the presence of Geb. When Harry managed to deflect the artifact away from him, Alexander, furious, used the God's sudden appearance as a distraction and made another attempt.
It was during this time that Daphne was grievously injured by a stray attack. A shower of stone, possibly guided by Alexander's use of his lightning Authority, struck her as she tried to reposition herself. She crumpled, bleeding profusely, body injured from both the hits from the rocks and the lightning that had gotten her, the sight of her pain carving itself into Harry's soul, that had been the first time any of his girls had been hurt like that, and he was not happy.
Alex, satisfied he had caused maximum disruption, gave his sickening, casual smirk.
"A gift for you, little brother. Try not to die too quickly." Referring to the Heretic god that had been unleashed on the world.
Then, he left. Using his Godspeed Authority to simply vanish, leaving Harry to face a primordial deity alone while protecting an injured loved one. Harry's rage wasn't just about the magic grimoire, it was about the utter callousness of the abandonment, forcing Harry into a position of near-impossible odds with an injured Daphne.
Harry had prevailed, of course, slaying Geb and claiming his powerful Earth Control Authority, but the memory of Daphne's life-threatening injury and her almost dying, and he couldn't do anything but fight to protect her as she was bleeding out there. Alexander had almost cost him the life of his love, and that was a sin Harry swore he would never forgive.
Back to the Present
"Where?" Harry's voice was a low growl, the sound of tearing metal as the table under his hands broke apart.
"Leicester Square, My King," Anya's voice confirmed crisply, her knight persona providing the necessary formal detachment, knowing very well why Harry hated the campione.
Harry didn't need to think. He simply acted. A single slash of his claw-like fingers tore the air apart with a sound like ripping silk, space folding under the application of his divine will. He stepped through the rift and emerged on the rooftop of a massive skyscraper, overlooking the sprawling metropolis.
His use of his authority had gotten far better over the years, and now most of them were like second nature to him.
He could sense the entire city down there, but he knew that he'd not find the bastard.
He knew Alexander would be in hiding, he was good at not being found when he wanted. After the Egypt fiasco, Harry had searched for him but couldn't find him, he kept disappearing when he sensed Harry or something like that, making it like an annoying game of tag.
Harry had gotten tired and had immediately declared an extermination war on the Royal Arsenal, ready to burn every trace of their network to ash. He was prepared to wipe them out, to wage war against the humans who served Alexander just to call the bastard out.
It had taken an immense effort to stop him.
Evelyn McAlister, the ever sharp-witted mage of the White coven, had brought nearly every member, kneeling before him to beg for reconsideration.
Evelyn's words had been, "My King, you can crush mere humans without thought, but if you wipe out a rival Campione's network, he will retaliate by targeting your people. We cannot protect every single subject across Britain from a Campione seeking vengeance. We beg you to reconsider."
Even then, it was Daphne who had told him not to take things that far, she had said she didn't want him to kill innocent people just like that, which broke through to him. He had looked at the kneeling supplicants and finally admitted she was right.
But he did eventually catch the bastard after a while, their second clash, still haunted his pride though.
Alexander, running circles around Harry, the fight had started with them going even, and then started shifting to Harry having some upper hand, and then he had deployed his infamous Labyrinth Authority.
It had been quite the annoying maze, it was a constantly twisting, shifting reality that regenerated instantly. It seemed to regenerate when he destroyed the walls.
Alexander had simply slipped away when he was trapped in the maze, leaving Harry to destroy the maze before he just wiped out the entire area by literally bringing down the very earth in the area and burying the place.
After he made it out, he was standing around with the bastard gone. His pride had been hurt there, after all his lip about beating him when he got his hands on him.
Grasping the railing, Harry's hand closed, twisting the thick steel into a corkscrew. He wouldn't fail this time.
He shut his eyes, shedding his visual sense, and reached down with the Authority of Geb.
He felt the Earth.
He sensed every vibration. Every step. Every heartbeat. The soil beneath London whispered to him, all whispering to him. This was the absolute dominion of Earth, an absolute control that extended to causing massive earthquakes, raising mineral deposits, or creating volcanoes.
The authority of Geb.
He filtered the noise, the rush of the Tube trains, the thousands of heartbeats, the hum of electricity. And then.....there.
A ripple. He could feel it. Divine power. Only one person besides him should have divine power in this city right now, and well, that wasn't him.
Alexander.
A savage smile curled up Harry's lips.
"Found you, you son of a bastard."
Another spatial swipe, another rift. He vanished.
Leicester Square
Alexander Gascoigne walked through the empty streets in his dark coat, his black hair barely visible beneath his hat. He had just left that brat Miko, princess Alice, when he heard of a rumored artifact connected to the Atlantean myths and decided to check it out and see if it was worth taking.
Truthfully, he'd wanted to avoid this place. It was under the sphere's influence of his little brother's domain after all.
He mused internally.
Harry was powerful, that was for sure. He guessed he didn't really make a good impression with how things happened when they met, and he should have just left things there, but after meeting him a second time, Alex had found that he quite liked teasing the boy.
It was fun, seeing him trying to get him and chasing after him in some kind of game of tag, but right now, he wasn't really looking to play, he just came for the artifact, then he'd leave. After all, he wasn't a ruffian like his other siblings, looking for a fight everywhere they went. Oh, at least that's what he told himself.
"I'll grab it and leave before the brat even knows I'm here," he thought, relying on his stealth from his authority Godspeed..
Suddenly, his instincts screamed.
'Guess it was too late. ' He moved just as a fist, cratered the ground where he'd been standing a millisecond before. Dust and shattered paving stones flew everywhere, leaving a smoking hole in the pavement.
Alexander spun, his face hardening, then settling into an annoying smirk.
"Little brother," he said casually, brushing imaginary dust off his impeccable coat. "How have you been?" He genuinely found Harry's unrestrained fury entertaining.
Harry stood there, his slight green aura faintly glowing around him, eyes burning with a blinding, cold fury.
"I'm doing just fine, brother," Harry replied through teeth gritted so hard his jawbone strained, spitting out the word 'brother'. "Why don't you come closer? Let me give you a hug. You know, allow your little brother to finally get to know his older brother better." The promise of violence in the invitation was unmistakable.
Alexander let out a loud, amused laugh, sharp and bright. "Tempting. But I think I'll stay right here."
The ground around Alexander erupted without warning.
Jagged, ten-foot-tall spears of concrete and earth shot upward. Alexander moved with impossible grace, his body a blur of speed, dodging the attack that would have impaled a mortal. He landed lightly on a nearby lamppost, the metal fixture bending slightly under his weight.
"Still angry about Egypt, are we?" he teased, his voice carrying the smug confidence of a man who knew he could outrun his debt.
Harry didn't answer with words. His glare was sufficient.
He vanished, reappearing midair above Alexander, his fist cocked back, slamming down with the force of a divine meteor. Alexander dodged again, the air itself cracked with a violent sonic boom, and the lamppost vaporized into ash.
"Well," Alex chuckled, straightening his coat, the smirk fixed firmly in place. "Seems it's time for another little game of tag."
Harry bared his teeth, his expression savage. "Run around all you like. This time, you won't get away."
The ground beneath them shuddered violently, and the very earth of London itself began to groan as the King of Earth prepared to weaponize his domain.
And the Black Prince, for the first time that day, realized this wasn't going to be a game like their past times.
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