41- The King's Sword: True Self
…..
Detective Kazuma Shinsuke took a deep breath as he studied the crime scene before him. 'I have no idea how we are going to cover this up.' The aging detective had a frown on his face as he looked around the art gallery and saw the bodies thrown around, blood turning most of the white floor red. "Gods, what a mess." Despite him saying that the man knew that no god was involved in the confusion.
It was the work of devils or those associated with them. Like the detective himself.
He still remembered the day that an elegant man approached him with an offer of help when the detective was in one of the darkest periods of his life, he had just been diagnosed with lung cancer at an advanced stage and given only a few months of life.
For years his wife had warned him to stop smoking but ever since he was a young adult that was a habit that Shinsuke never learned to let go. He made sure to at least only smoke only at work to not botter his children but that only delayed the inevitable. Years of the habit while sitting down behind a desk finally caught up with him and there was nothing he could do.
His doctor explained as gently as he could that there was nothing that could be done but offered the detective, the lead detective of Fuyuki's police force, a small piece of paper with a strange circle in it and said "Ask and they may be able to help you."
At that point it sounded like religious nonsense but Shinsuke was desperate, he didn't want to die as his children needed him. So he locked himself in the office and studied the circle for over an hour trying to figure out if there was a number of some kind for him to call.
He was surprised when it suddenly let out a glow and a redhead man with the most crystal blue eyes he had ever seen had stepped off a bigger one that showed up on his floor. "You must be someone important and in need of help."
That was when Shinsuke made his pact with a devil and had his cancer cured. The devil explained that Fuyuki was his city for a few months at that point and that he had received a magic circle from one of his clients, a special one reserved for those in positions of importance.
The devil, Zeoticus, offered to get rid of the lung cancer in return for loyalty and information. The detective asked some questions to make sure he wouldn't have to do anything bad before accepting the deal but his instincts told him the devil wasn't lying when he said he wanted the best for Fuyuki.
At least as much as a normal detective like him could read from a devil. He still tried out of stubborness and personal pride but the handsome face made it hard to catch any lies.
Fortunately for the detective, his kind of disease was one the devils knew how to heal but the treatment was expensive and would last hours. Zeoticus offered to pay all the expenses after he signed a contract.
The detective jokingly asked if should sign with blood. "Not for this one." He then understood the devil wasn't kidding nor lying.
'Painful' didn't describe the process properly as it was a type of magical surgery that literally involved cleaning his lungs. He had been asleep throughout the whole thing but when he woke up he could feel a phantom pain for days and breathing was harder than ever for a month.
For a whole month he felt that pain coming and going but once it was gone Kazuma felt like a young man again and immediately got back to work. Just in time to help cover up some gang war happening in Fuyuki while making sure one of the sides won.
Truly he had sold his soul to a devil and he had already come to collect in the name of his own children.
It has been ten years since then and after the birth of his first grandchild the old man couldn't say he regretted his decision. 'Wonder who my replacement is going to be? Were they already brought into the fold?' The aging detective wondered as his age was catching up to him. 'Even with the spell to keep me going Zeoticus' daughter warned me that I need to retire soon anyway.'
Shinsuke already knew that the mess in the gallery would probably be his last case, and cover up, for the devils. In his sixties and with no real magic power of his own the man just kept working anymore without giving up his humanity but that wasn't offered. The reality was that he was mostly a normal human that was useful because of his profession, nothing else.
Which was a job he didn't mind doing as he studied the area carefully and took the bodies into account, both the living and the dead. Medical crews and firefighters were still running around to try and save those who could be saved, which were a considerable number much to the detective's surprise.
There were still plenty that were going to the morgue and the way they died could raise anyone's suspicion. If Shinsuke didn't know about magic and hadn't received a warning from his superiors about magic swords he wondered what he would deduct from the scene he walked in.
Some people turned to give him looks that the detective recognized very well; those were the looks of men who knew the secret and that knew things were more than they seemed. Not everyone in the gallery had that look but Kazuma recognized enough of them as they all were in the same boat and worked together more than once.
'But never to the scale of tonight.' Shinsuke thought with a chuckle as he stepped up close to a young officer in the center of the gallery. "What do you have to report, officer?"
"Sir." The salute and clean uniform told the detective this young man was recently out of the academy. His bright eyes showed a curiosity that was somewhat shaken but some of the gruesome sights inside the art gallery. "So far we have accounted for forty armored and armed men inside the premises. Some of them confirmed that they invaded the place but nothing else."
The frown from the officer was something that the detective noticed. "What do you mean by 'nothing else'?" The younger man looked nervous and the older one paid close attention to any reactions. "Speak your mind, officer. We are all friends here."
With permission from his superior the man relaxed a bit. "They refused to tell us anything else but protested when some of my colleagues called them thieves or invaders. Not only that but their armor… even if I never saw European armor before I can recognize quality and those ones aren't just props." He looked to the sides, obviously feeling nervous but the aging detective said nothing. "Some of my colleagues agree with me but when we brought it to the captain he told me to drop it."
'Of course he did. This is supposed to be something simple, forgettable, and a conspiracy of any kind will attract anyone curious enough.' Which meant those people would disappear and that may include the young officer before him. Since he showed some potential, the detective knew exactly how to distract the young man. "Say, would you like to make a couple of rounds with me?"
"Sir?" The young officer sounded shocked by the offer.
"You have a sharp mind and good eyes. I fear that at my age I may miss something and you could help catch them." He could see the eagerness of youth and to prove himself. "So you come with me and we do some rounds, see what we can find while the first responders work and before the crime scene is closed off. Never know what can happen with that many people running around."
The officer knew the aging detective was right as there were many needing medical attention and it would take a while for them all to be taken to a hospital. "Yes sir!"
The young man blushed at how loud his voice got but the man shook his head and smiled. "Lets go around… what is your name, officer?"
"Raito, sir. Yagami Raito." The name surprised the detective and the young man noticed. "Yes, my father is Yagami Soichiro."
"What the- Why is the son of the Chief of police of all Japan doing around Fuyuki? As just an officer nonetheless."
"It was partially on my insistence and part because my father wanted me to 'cut my teeth' while going up into the ranks." Raito replied with a casual smile.
For a second the detective was about to ask more questions before remembering something. "You helped Tokyo's police with a case, right? Did an interview or something as well saying you wanted to be a detective."
It was Raito's turn to be surprised. "I am surprised you remember that, sir. It was years ago."
"Just five and I am not that old to forget when a highschooler outsmarts us in the force." Still Shinsuke remembered that the article spoke of how brilliant young Raito was. "Why a detective though? With your smarts you could be making a fortune in other areas."
Suddenly his smile gained melancholy that the man found even more surprising. "Because that would be boring and there are many mysteries that I want to investigate." The way he looked around the gallery, studying it with clear interest, showed the old man that Raito was very invested in this case already.
"'Mysteries', huh?" Shinsuke wondered if he should say something else but just began to walk. "Then you better focus on this one. Come on now and… I hope your stomach is ready or that you didn't have dinner."
They did find some gruesome sights while exploring the art gallery, the older man asking the younger for his opinions; they saw bodies burned to a crisp, body parts without their owners and people imprinted on the floor by a lot of force.
Most of those were focused in a single area and the detective already knew one type of person capable of doing that much damage by themselves.
The officer on the other hand deduced that it was a number of people working together or the result of an all out brawl. It was a fair assumption to make as breaking concrete wasn't easy for a normal person.
But what fascinated the younger man the most was the fact so many of the people around were still alive. "What do you think, sir? They were spared for some kind of statement?" He asked as they watched some people being carried off in stretchers. "Most of them seemed to have been tased by a high voltage weapon. Like someone brought a gun to a sword fight."
Shinsuke knew Raito deduced that because of some twitching from the victims presented but it was easy to debunk. "A modified weapon is a possibility but while the armors will need to be examined there are no taser marks from what I can see."
The young man nodded as the detective pointed to someone moaning from pain. "At least they are alive to tell us what happened."
"Hmm." The detective pretended to agree but knew it wasn't going to happen that easily. Screams of pain cut the conversation a little and he noticed how Raito's face remained calm despite his age and the suffering around them. "Do you need a break?"
Raito scoffed at the notion before smiling. "No offense sir but I wouldn't stop even if you ordered me." He kept watching over the living soldiers with interest, almost as if he was trying to piece what happened from their pain alone.
'This world is mad. Wonderful and mad.' The detective thought to himself as he watched the officer keep a mostly impartial face and take note of every detail with cold detachment. "Come on boy. We have a few more places to explore."
"The second floor?" Raito asked. Shaking his head, Shinsuke stepped forward to the back of the gallery where there was a hole to the outside. "Wasn't this an entry point?"
"The entry points were the places with tire marks. This was an exit." The detective stepped out and both saw a group of paramedics working into taking off a single man's armor. Shinsuke noticed a familiar face and called "Considering this is the outside I thought you would already have finished, Takenouchi."
A woman with long strawberry white hair in a ponytail turned to glare at the detective. "Kazuma, you old bastard." There was a smile on her face that had the detective smiling too.
"You are as old as I am." The two policemen stopped at a safe distance as the woman gave some orders to her people to take off as much armor as they could before moving away from the body.
"No, you are two years older than me." She turned to Raito with a frown. "Training your replacement already?"
The old man shrugged. "Getting to the age, yeah. Say hello to Takenouchi, Raito. Mother of my daughter in law."
"Ma'am." The officer offered his hand respectfully and the paramedic took off a blooded glove before shaking it. "Are you helping move the bodies?"
"No dead here, kiddo. That one is still alive." The three turned to look as a team of four paramedics made an effort to remove all the man's armor as slowly as they could.
"I didn't think anyone alive could bend their arms like that." Raito commented, for the first time feeling unnerved by the state of one of the perpetrators of the night's events. He gulped loudly before speaking again. "How isn't there more blood? Some of the armor looks to be sunken in and should have pierced the skin."
Both elders look at each other, the lead paramedic with her eyebrows raised. The detective shook his head away from Raito's field of vision and she knew that she needed an excuse.
"Whoever did this wasn't trying to kill him." Takenouchi ended up saying out loud. It was the truth anyway but one that surprised Raito. "I know, right? Most people with their arms and legs bent that way may even die from shock but the guy there was awake when we got here."
"He was?!" Raito couldn't hold back his voice and even the detective looked impressed.
"Yeah, we had to knock him out with some medicine and only after we assured him that we wouldn't take off his cape first." A meaningful glance was trade between the two professionals.
Both of them were aware about the moonlit world and the potential that a piece of clothing may have. "We will sort that into evidence after you make sure he won't die." Shinsuke made it sound like he was doing her a favor but it wasn't the case. "I will file it myself." It was both their jobs to make sure no one would look too deep.
Obviously the cape would be cataloged then replaced by a normal one if necessary once the real power of the town took a look.
"Still, I may have to amend my previous deduction. That was too systematic." Raito commented in deep thought.
Takenouchi gave him a look before turning to Shinsuke. "What do you mean, Raito?"
"Taking into account what Takenouchi-san said it is clear that the person responsible for all that wanted his victims to suffer as much as possible." A look of contempt crossed Raito's face for just a moment. "The way most of them are alive and in pain indicates a truly evil person that showed he could kill everyone to then start torturing them until he grew bored and left."
"Or finished the job after a show of force." Shinsuke interrupted the young man who looked at the detective in shock as the elder shook his head. "You are letting your biases color the world, kid. Never do that, especially in our line of work." He pointed back to the gallery. "From the tire marks and the leftovers of a car we can deduce that at least two people got in separately from different directions. That speaks more about two groups crashing the party of a third one. You agree with that?"
"Or a group in two cars." The officer still nodded in agreement. "And the only ones we found were people in armor. That reinforces the idea that the invading group got their wounded in the second car and left."
Shinsuke could have agreed with that if he wasn't as experienced as he was. "Two distincts methodologies." Raito's eyes grew wide. "One group was ruthless, they cut heads and blew off people without hesitation. They were fighting to kill." He raised a hand to count to two. "The other group was more direct on their methods; neutralize at all costs and those 'knights' barely saw them coming." The detective chuckled. "There is no indication they got a single blow in."
"It still leaves two groups that are allies." Amending his deductions again, Raito revealed his thoughts. "One brutal that weakened the knights and the other methodical that came for the finishing blow." He looked at the broken man before him with pity. "Or just as brutal but of a different kind. I doubt this man can ever walk again."
"Actually he just might, after some therapy." The paramedic commented, surprising them both as the detective didn't expect any admission of recovery from what he deduced were impossible wounds. Yet the woman spoke in front of the officer which indicated that it had nothing to do with the moonlit world.. "Both of you are right, his bones were broken methodically, perfectly even."
"How do you break a bone perfectly?" Shinsuke was shocked.
The paramedic wasn't surprised, she didn't know that was possible until that day either. "By holding them down and hitting precisely where they needed to break the strongest bones evenly." She turned to the man without armor now being lifted into a stretcher. "Also no damage to the spine or cranium, just arms and legs. The guy can recover with time and therapy but the point is that he will recover."
"That…" Raito didn't know what to say.
But Takenouchi understood regardless. "I know." She was avoiding telling them how the body would be a bloody mess anyway because of the method but the man had no wounds besides his bones.
She didn't need to, the detective got the message as his friend kept looking at him. "Then the third group had someone extremely skilled. Potentially bigger than the victim considering that brute force was required."
After a second, Raito asked "What kind of man could do something like that?"
"Be-" A soft whisper escaped the blond man's lips and the paramedics called their superior for permission to administer more drugs. The policemen followed and as the woman was about to give the order the man spoke again. "Beee…" All came closer to hear what the man was saying and the one once known as Sir Gawain finally spoke clearly. "Beast…"
None of the present could understand what he was really saying as Gawain lost his consciousness due to the drugs and pain.
His last thought was about the redhead who broke him completely, both in body and spirit.
…
Shirou approached his friends slowly with Muramasa relaxed to his side. While his eyes were mostly focused on Freed he still gave some of his attention to the fallen angel with Akeno in his arms.
"Are you all alright?" That was the magus main priority as he felt the energy around the area and saw how Medusa was struggling to protect the devils.
Thanks to the information he got from the Fused Fragments he knew about Sanctuary but had no idea how Medusa was protecting the others or how efficient the method was. Mostly he could see how much effort the goddess was putting into her red barrier and knew that it wouldn't last forever.
"They are safe, my protector. Though it seems you are doing a sloppy job." Medusa commented with sweat pouring from her forehead. "To leave your charge to do such a heavy lifting job…"
"Sorry." Shirou apologized sincerely. "But don't worry, I promise to finish this soon." He was about to step inside the barrier to help his friends but Medusa stopped him.
"You can't. It is already taking everything I have to keep this up. If you or anyone else enters..."
"Then Blood Fort Andromeda falls and us with it." Rias commented with a bitter chuckle. "We can't use mana either or have Ise Boost us without risking that too… It seems we can't help." She hated that kind of situation but got as close as she could to Shirou. "You will have to do this alone."
"Right. Don't worry. I will beat up the guy who was bullying you all." Shirou commented with a chuckle.
"'Bullying' he says." Saji commented and some chuckle as the Sitri group began to argue if Shirou could do it or not.
None of the Gremory doubted him even if Kiba gave him a sad look as while the redhead magus didn't know it yet the Knight had failed in controlling his emotions.
That didn't matter to Xenovia who took advantage of Shirou's arrival to try and stab Freed on the back with Durandal. The man moved the Fused Fragments to redirect the impact and took his distance to try and bait the blue haired woman again with her partner only to see that she was also carrying Irina with one arm.
"Damn, if it's two against one that won't be easy." Freed retreated more and more as Xenovia moved to deposit Irina closer to Blood Fort Andromeda.
Meanwhile all that was happening, Kokabiel observed Shirou carefully, paying close attention to the sword he was using. 'A Noble Phantasm?'
Shirou noticed the small skirmish happening on the side but didn't react much, his hand going for his pocket. After talking with some of his friends he called for Koneko to come closer.
"You aren't hurt, right?" He asked the small devil who shook her head. "Good, she would be really upset if you were." Shirou placed something on the floor close to the barrier and Koneko looked at it curiously. "When Sanctuary is gone, give her a call. I am sure she will come running."
Koneko looked at the redhead in the eyes. "You think you can't win." That surprised some but Shirou nodded. "Why?"
"I can't fly for starters." Shirou said with a chuckle before his glare turned to steel. "And the smell coming from that guy… it reminds me of…" He paused and looked at Medusa before looking back at the fallen angel. 'His power is as great as Medusa's was that day…'
But it wasn't just a matter of power alone, during his adventure on the Shapeless Island the Gorgon he faced was a berserk creature with little thought. A strong foe that fought without reason, strategy or even properly understanding her power. That was how Shirou survived her and as strong as he had become after that adventure he knew that Kokabiel would be a different class of opponent.
It was the look that the Cadre had; the sharpness of a warrior that knew his way around a fight and paid attention to every element around him.
Taking everything in Shirou knew that if the Medusa he faced on that island had used her power better she would be the stronger of the two even if not the most capable. That would still be Kokabiel and once the Fused Sword was destroyed Shirou doubted he would just give up and leave.
And that wasn't even counting the sword itself. Despite being newly forged and a mess of metal that Shirou refused to acknowledge as a true sword there was no denying its power.
So Shirou was going to play things carefully and prepare because once the Fragments were out of the picture they all would have a far stronger adversary to deal with, a man who relished fighting and had the power to enjoy it to the fullest.
They all turned to Kokabiel and the fallen angel chuckled. "A new actor joined our play. Part of me didn't expect that. However I shouldn't be surprised since you were part of the hunt."
"It was really you on the phone." Shirou commented, surprising some as they didn't know they talked.
"Indeed it was I. Did you like playing in my little treasure hunt for the Excaliburs? You aren't upset, are you? I gave you a fair chance to be part of the play and here you are, right on time too, I suppose." At Shirou's lack of response, black wings moved as they made it look like he was shrugging. "Well, you can't please them all. Improvising never was my forte either so that may have been a mistake."
Once Shirou recognized the voice properly he began to glare at the ten winged angel with fury. "What happened to them?" The rage surprised Kokabiel who expected the magus to be a little more intimidated by his power. "What happened to all those people?"
Understanding dawn on the Cadre and he smiled. "Oh~ Who are you asking about?" Kokabiel teased. "Kukuku. You mean the heiresses' bodyguards that were watching over Fuyuki?"
Both Rias and Sona flinched but stayed quiet. They knew their siblings had people protecting them but the confirmation still stung and it was worse because they died. Preparations would have to be done and their names offered after everything was done but that was for later. If there was a 'later'.
For now the redhead devil threw a glance at the back of her lover's head but she knew this wasn't the time for that kind of conversation, especially when she saw how Shirou's hand was trembling in rage.
Kokabiel chuckled, fixing his grip on Akeno. "Forgive me but as the director of our little play I couldn't allow for uninvited actors to be part of it." His red eyes were fixed on Shirou with some irritation but he chuckled again. "However, I can make an exception. This wouldn't be a good production if we couldn't deal with the unexpected and improvise when necessary."
"'Production'? You killed people and put lives in danger… For a play?" Shirou could feel his blood boiling but didn't dare to attack as his eyes were still locked on an angry Freed.
"The 'play' is just a prelude for what is to come. The end of the world as you know it." Kokabiel extended his wings slightly to make himself look better while holding his power back. "That is what I, Kokabiel the Angel of the Stars, have decided. Fate may have abandoned us but if it won't intervene then I shall."
All that were already used to Kokabiel's displays of power knew that if it wasn't by Sanctuary and Akeno he would be throwing it around for effect. But since he couldn't affect those on the ground, the fallen angel opened his wings until they fully covered the sky to show how great he really was.
"Isn't this quite the perfect tale to be the prelude of the Great War? A tragedy that shall be recorded in the history books!" Then Kokabiel's wings returned to their normal size and he smiled gently. "And I, Kokabiel, am the playwright of this tragedy. Let them all know that the Great War isn't over and it will only end with the Grigori on top!"
Some looked bothered by the speech of restarting the Great War but Shirou was more angry than before. "All that for some stupid war?" Gritting his teeth he kept glaring at Kokabiel. "I won't let that happen!" The fallen angel looked back at his challenger with amusement. "Did you hear me, Angel of the Stars! I will stop you, even if it is the last thing that I do!"
"Hahaha! Then face your opponent; Freed!" The fallen angel called for the white haired man who didn't stop from glaring at Shirou since he retreated. "I can see you hate this man for some reason."
"He keeps cockblocking me!" Freed complained.
Kokabiel chuckled again. "Then kill him. Wouldn't that be a nice ribbon to close our little play?" He made sure to fly between the two sides. "Humans shall decide the fate of the Great War! Father always favored you so let you both decide who it shall begin!" Opening his wings just enough for them to act like hands, Kokabiel 'pointed' to the combatants. "Here and now, the winner gets 'Excalibur'!" Freed raised his sword but Shirou didn't move and the Cadre noticed that. "What are you waiting for? Begin already!"
"Sorry but if I am going to fight it will be at my own pace." Shirou replied carefully as he traded glances with Xenovia who had got Irina behind him and close to Medusa's barrier. "How is she?"
"Wounded but I will be okay." Irina said with a smile but she looked exhausted and even with some of her cape torn down to cover some of the wounds, the white turning red showed how much blood she lost. "Just let me take a breath and I will be ready to go again."
Xenovia frowned but helped her partner to sit down. "Irina!" Ise approached to check his friend but stopped short as he was just about to step outside the barrier. "Are you okay? Can we get her inside?"
"Not without hurting you all." Medusa informed but the chestnut haired Exorcist shook her head. She was confident she could reform Blood Fort Andromeda but some devils would suffer for it. "She doesn't need my protection anyway."
"Don't worry, Ise. This heals really quickly, after a minute I will get back there and-"
"She is out of the fight." Xenovia informed with a glare at Freed while cutting Irina from pretending she could keep going. While her partner looked sad Xenovia didn't focus on that and instead turned to Shirou, her new ally in this fight. "His sword-"
"I already got the information." Shirou's interruption surprised Xenovia but she looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Same way I knew about your swords… or the painting."
Irina blushed at the remainder but Xenovia just nodded. "I see. That is good so we can skip straight to making a plan."
"You want to fight with me?" Shirou could see the state that Xenovia was in and while she was better than Irina there was no denying she also was exhausted and hurt. The blue haired Exorcist's wounds were smaller than her friend's but were far more numerous with scraps on her legs and arms to go with the rest. "Take care of yourself first. You are barely standing as well."
Not being offended but still annoyed by Shirou's dismissal, Xenovia raised her sword and placed it on her shoulder. "If you think that your sword can face Excalibur then you are deluding yourself. It is almost as strong as my own blade."
Then the Exorcist let out some of her sword aura to show Shirou the power of a Holy Sword which was far beyond an Excalibur Fragment. The redhead magus wasn't really impressed.
For the first time since he arrived Shirou's attention left Freed as he turned to Xenovia. "I know my sword may not look like much but-"
It was a sword made of pure bronze as were many weapons of the time. A fine weapon that found few contestants despite its lack of divine blessings or protections. It was also wielded by a fine man who cared for his kingdom and was a good swordsman who respected his weapon deeply.
But the man, a prince, feared that it wouldn't be a proper weapon to face the enemy he feared would come. It was a possibility that haunted the young man because war was on the horizon and after studying his enemy he knew that a sword wasn't a proper weapon to face them.
He believed he needed a spear but wanted a spear as good as his sword so every time a spear was brought to him he would test its mettle against his blade.
Many spears broke against its edge, repetidaly, thoroughly and the prince of his nation knew he would never find a spear as fine as his sword.
So he turned the sword into a spear.
The prince wasn't disappointed with his weapon, it was a fitting one for a commander and perfect to counter his enemy's strategy.
A weapon that could help the young prince defend his country.
Time passed and it seemed the war wouldn't come, the spear was still used for combat and skirmishes as the prince practiced with it just as much as he studied strategy.
Then the war came and together with its prince the weapon grew into a legend of its own. Guided by its owner's hand it took down many men who were heroes in their own right, pierced the best shields and defeated the thoughts of armors made by man.
Unfortunately for the prince the armor that ended up defeating the spear was made by a god.
It wasn't just the armor either for in every aspect of skill, technique, speed and brutality the young prince saw himself surpassed by his opponent.
A warrior without equal and peerless during his time, the strongest of Greeks, Achilles The Swift, Son of Peleus.
So died Hector, Prince of Troy. His spear and armor were taken by the victor together with his body to satiate the demigod's thirst for revenge.
In his hands that spear could have been even greater but Achilles, the Warrior of Rage and Terror of Troy, soon felt remorse by how he killed the prince.
No longer consumed by fury, the Son of Peleus returned the spear to the father of its owner for the funeral rites where it would rest at his side for all eternity.
But it wasn't meant to be and a few years later Troy was sacked and the spear stolen and taken as a trophy once again.
No longer it found itself in combat, no longer it could slay its owner's enemies, it was just a trophy, a powerful trophy but a trophy nonetheless.
Then Fate turned again and the descendents of Troy found the spear once more.
They no longer were Trojans or followed the same gods but they still admired the same heroes and Hector was an idol to many still.
Time had passed and the magic on the spear hadn't grown weaker but wasn't recognized by the new owners.
They didn't understand it and saw it as a relic of its time, a weapon that lost its luster as stronger metals took the place of its bronze.
However that wasn't to be for long as there were many who wanted to see it shine again.
New beliefs gave birth to new possibilities and soon a journey had begun to gather artifacts with the powers of those called Saints and a Holy Mother.
All for a spear that was once a sword from a hero long gone.
But while the gods those people believed had changed the same couldn't be said about heroes for the prince and his rival both were remembered and honored in one way or another.
So the spear, Durandina, which was once a sword became a sword again.
This time it wasn't made with the intention of being fully a weapon of war but a symbol to carry the power of miracle workers.
In shape it became less an instrument of death than a weapon to be admired and recognized by all with the intent of inspiring while also delivering Justice and Smiting the corrupt.
Gone was the outer shell of bronze and instead it became a blade of steel and gold.
Many would claim that before it was the sword of a warrior and then became a proper sword for a king.
But it was the sword of a warrior still, a sword far more powerful than it ever was, far surpassing the power of its previous forms, its existence being filled by Holy Artifacts which made it a weapon without equal.
A Peerless Sword.
A Sword of Miracles.
Unlike when it was a bronze sword where it was a gladius, this one was slightly bigger but still ideal for someone to use it with one hand. The bronze wasn't fully gone, it was turned into a core for the steel as it and the handle carried the Holy Relics that gave the blade unfathomable power.
A colorless gem at the back of the handle was a distinguished feature that shone every time someone tried to use its power.
For many had tried and as many had failed.
It was too much power for the common man to bear, wild, untamed and great beyond all measure.
With its edge that blade could cut the heavens, with a strike it was possible to open chasms in the earth and its very presence could bring armies and beasts to heel.
Such was the power of that sword, so great that it needed a proper vessel, a proper wielder, or else its very existence may put the whole world at risk.
An angel descended from Heaven to collect it, admiring its making before flying to someone who could name a champion to own the blade.
A king received it and immediately recognized the prize Heaven was offering him.
Power that he knew that he shouldn't have for as a king he already had plenty and people would fear him if he had anymore.
Instead he gave the sword to a young man who was one of his knights, one of his Paladins.
His name was Roland and he would never reject a gift from his king.
When he held the sword in his hands he swore oaths of loyalty once again for deep was his gratitude for the gift and the faith his king had in him.
And the faith wasn't misplaced for Roland was perfect for the wild sword he received as his body was as tough as a diamond and he could keep up with his weapon until he eventually learned to control the wild nature of it.
With that weapon Roland was unstoppable, his skill and body making them the perfect pair and soon the wild sword was tamed.
Together they were invincible, facing every challenge head first despite the Paladin having some issues with romance that landed them in more than one bad situation. But he used the sword well regardless.
For the sword became perfect for him, one of its miracles making its weight just right for Roland who could use it expertidly with one hand while using the other to deal with other enemies, only using both to unleash its full power.
But Roland realized that the sword was too powerful and began to fear it, fearing the day he wouldn't be there to keep control over it or worse; that someone with evil intentions somehow would manage to gain control over his sword.
Fear consumed the young Paladin, a fear that gripped his heart harder than the love he chased whenever could.
Fear so great he tried to destroy the sword despite how much it mattered to him.
Again and again with hundreds of tools all backed by his inhuman strength, Roland tried to break the Peerless Blade only to fail.
In the end it was because of another miracle born of his own desire, in his hands that sword had become truly indestructible, just like he wanted once.
Roland's last deed with the blade was stabbed in a huge stone to try and break it all the while praying and hoping that no one unworthy would get their hands on it.
Another miracle and so it was, the sword wouldn't budge for those unworthy anymore and despite Roland still being worthy he didn't want it.
He left the sword there for others to pick up, the first miracle always making the sword change to match its owner, sometimes in small ways little by little while always keeping its height even if the weight always matched the owner's preferences.
Every single user after Roland was worthy in a way or another as his prayers hopped them to be but none of them was Roland.
None was as strong as Roland, the Paladin of Charlemagne.
None who could tame the power of the Peerless Sword.
Many came close, some more than others like a king who was shy and a great admirer of Hector, making promises to own every weapon and armor his idol had.
He succeeded and while he was worthy of the legacy of the Prince of Troy he wasn't up to pair with Roland or his sword for that sword had already outgrew his original owner by leaps and bounds.
There was no comparison anymore for even the original owner wouldn't be able to control that sword anymore, it had changed too much, grown too much.
However it found many worthy users, not strong ones, or fully capable for that matter, but nevertheless worthy.
Warriors with strong will, spirit and determination that shone as much as Roland's even if their bodies couldn't keep up with the sword itself.
Years upon years passed and the indestructible sword changed more with each owner to fit them all but still never being enough for none of them could keep up with it.
At that point the sword was completely different as it once was, having changed its shape fully and acquired a new color because one of its previous wielders found the steel color dull and hopeless.
However it didn't matter how much it had changed on the outside to fit with those worthy of it, the sword was still too powerful and wild to all of them.
Until a new owner came and he was unlike any other.
Roland was strong because of his blessings and constitution but the one that came closest to him was simply strong by nature.
A mass of muscle, faith and loyalty that was worthy of the sword showed up, a gentle giant whose only desire was to serve his Lord, much like a certain Paladin long ago.
They fit perfectly, not like Roland but close enough that they would be evenly matched in a fair fight and for years the sword found home with a good man that only wanted to do right by his Lord and the right thing.
His name was Vasco Strada, blessed with a body stronger than most since his youth he had no desire for violence but when the Church needed swords he didn't hesitate and was considered worthy of the greatest one they had.
For decades they had many adventures, always in defense of the innocents and punishing the wicked.
While sometimes the man had some doubts he was lucky to be born in a time where he had a clear enemy.
The fallen angel Kokabiel tried to mess with the affairs of Humanity and Vasco Strada was there to stop him in a fight that had the Cadre brought low.
Kokabiel survived that day by retreating, not the first time he had ever ran from a human but the first time in the modern era that someone could claim such a feat.
Vasco Strada's name was immortalized by his allies. Many times he ended up fighting alone but never complaining or retreating.
Year after year he fought for the sake of his beliefs and to protect the innocent, the body growing stronger and mastering the sword more and more.
By the end of it all Vasco Strada could truly be called Roland's equal and with the sword's miracles he could keep growing forever if he so desired.
But his wish was to die a human death, to one day lay down his arms and rest.
The sword may be wild to those who failed to tame it, could be powerful beyond belief, however it was always just a sword that needed someone to wield it so despite having the power to starve off age it didn't do it for that wasn't its owner's desire.
Time began to catch up to the legend, his body stopped growing stronger and the decline began.
Vasco Strada never wished to be a warrior and for the sword that was a flaw that it never could correct.
But someone else needed to hold the sword, that was a difference between Vasco and Roland that prompted the man not to try and destroy or hide it but to look for a successor.
He took the role of a mentor and began to make preparations to pass down the sword before his body aged too much, hoping to teach the next generation as best as he could even if he knew the possibility of that happening was low.
Usually it could take decades, up to a century, for a new owner of the sword to be found and Vasco Strada's desire meant he refused anything that could sustain him for that long.
Part of him seemed to expect that it would be one of his students who would pass down his lessons and he would have to hope that one day his successor would learn from them.
Was it a miracle then that just when he began looking he found a young girl with blue hair, the same color as the sword, with a great affinity for blades?
She was tested and found worthy by the sword itself, while not as strong as her predecessor she proved herself strong in other ways but still needed to fight tooth and nail to control it.
Xenovia Quarta was wild and didn't back down into learning how to control the sword but it always pushed back and she wasn't strong enough for it. At least not yet.
But no one doubted that one day she would succeed for her talent with swordplay was only comparable with her devotion for it and the hours upon hours of training she invested into the art.
Her hands hurt, even bled, and many times a woman's voice had to pull Xenovia off her training.
Exhausted swings were part of its story and the girl added to it many times more.
For that sword was worth that effort, the strongest sword the Church had left, the legacy she inherited from many heroes of ages past.
One of the strongest Holy Swords whose indestructibility was part of its legend.
Its name was-
"Durandal." Took him a second to process all the sword history but he understood how powerful the weapon in Xenovia's hand was. 'Where did all that come from?'
The information, unlike many other times, was given freely. Practically jumping to his mind without much of his input or effort.
It was almost like Durandal was anxious to introduce itself.
A heartbeat later his eyes were back on Freed who looked ready to attack but didn't move as he knew Shirou and Xenovia were ready. Had the redhead been distracted for one more second the Mad Exorcist would have attacked but with him and the Durandal owner together he knew it would be useless without some kind of opening.
"Then you know my sword is the only one able to compete against that monstrosity." Xenovia reiterated by taking a swing to the side and letting some power out. "If we work together-"
"We would only get into each other's way." Shirou noticed how stiff the Exorcist became at his words. "Teamwork is something that needs time to develop. You know that." Even if he knew what Xenovia could do thanks to Durandal she knew little to nothing about him. "Besides… you can't control Durandal yet."
Stiffening again and not being able to disagree with Shirou's observation, Xenovia still felt confident he needed her. "But your sword isn't strong enough anyway. At least not enough to break the Fused Excalibur."
Hearing the name bothered Shirou but he refused to let it show. "I don't need to break it, just kill that coward."
"You are still upset that he hurt Luvia." Xenovia pointed out and Shirou nodded.
"That kind of wound… was to make her suffer as much as possible." Even if his friend lived because of that, the fact she was hurt in the first place made Shirou upset. The fact that she was suffering made him furious. "Doesn't change the fact that we will only get into each other's way." He saw Xenovia was about to protest again. "And someone needs to stay back and stop him from using the others as hostages."
Remembering how Freed used Irina to force Xenovia where he wanted made her frown. "You're right. He already did that today." She moved a hand to hold a wound on her shoulder in frustration. "But you can protect them and let me go."
"If you were 100% I wouldn't mind." She easily could tell it was a lie, Shirou wanted that fight. "Can you use mana?"
"Feh. An Exorcist may take the training for that if they want even if we don't practice magic but… I never had the talent for it."
He chuckled at noticing how Xenovia was easy to read out of a fight. "So that is how it feels huh?" She turned to him just enough to raise an eyebrow. "You are lying."
"So were you." Xenovia said back petulantly and he nodded in agreement.
"True, but someone needs to stay behind and your sword is the better counter for that thing by your own admittance. You are better on the defensive in this case." By the twitch of Xenovia's arm he could see she didn't like that. "Look at it this way, you need to protect the others but nothing is stopping you from paying attention to any openings and attacking if the opportunity presents itself."
That argument actually helped Xenovia make a decision. "Fine but if I see an opportunity I will jump right in."
Shirou nodded in agreement and presented her with a Traced EM. "Ask Rias how it works. It will help." He wasn't sure if any of the Exorcists could use it but it didn't hurt to give them a choice. 'Technically Holy Energy is also mana but it is too different from the usual and EM wasn't made to absorb it. Giving it doesn't hurt if any of the two can use the mana in the air but I can't focus on them right now.' Not with Freed watching them like a shark waiting for blood.
Still wanting to protest, Xenovia took a step closer and whispered. "Don't think Freed is going to be the same as before. The Fused Excalibur power is greater than the sum of its parts and he is getting used to it faster than it should be possible." Sanctuary was proof enough of that.
"Anything else you can tell me?" He offered EM carefully.
"He can now use multiple abilities at once even if he still hasn't figured out how just yet." It was a thing Shirou got from the Fused Fragments too but Xenovia's eyes held a deeper message.
'She is telling me to be mindful of all the Fragments' abilities because she doesn't know about Structural Analysis or at least not my level of it.' Still he appreciated the warning "Thanks for the heads up." She nodded back.
Xenovia took the scalpel and slowly took a few steps back while keeping her eyes on their enemy, making it clear that Shirou would take over the fight much to the fallen angel's amusement.
Kokabiel was sure that Xenovia would be the one to still fight, having Durandal was a real advantage even if she was wounded. However he was also curious about Shirou's presence since there were many things bothering him about the redhead.
'That Noble Phantasm was an arrow before and I am sure something like that doesn't exist.' Having lived for as long as he did Kokabiel knew he would have heard of a weapon like that. 'There was also that moment when he looked at Durandal… I am sure I saw something change in him.'
As an angel Kokabiel had seen many human interactions during his life but how Shirou's whole demeanor changed because of a glance towards Durandal was too fast for it to be nothing.
Sure the blade was powerful, even without letting any of its aura out Xenovia wasn't skilled enough to hold back its very presence, but there wasn't enough for him to consider it anything other than a powerful Holy Sword.
By reading lips to keep up with the conversation and watching Shirou's demeanor closely, Kokabiel was sure there was a shift in his attitude the moment his eyes laid on Durandal and that itself was odd.
Durandal was a Noble Phantasm with many miracles like changing to suit better the owner's style, not completely but enough that its actual appearance was completely different from those in the most recent books as the last big change was with Vasco Strada and the Church always kept the records of it to themselves when possible.
The actual Durandal was a sword that Kokabiel knew, a little different in some places and a darker shade of blue that his eyes could notice but most humans couldn't. Compared to its original and more known form of a classic European sword, Durandal was practically a different blade altogether except for those familiar with its power.
'He whispered the name after just a glance… that should be impossible.' Something was fishy for Kokabiel and that intrigued him so much he was willing to give the redhead time to prepare. 'After all it would be impolite to rush the fight which will define the Fate of the world.'
Once that Shirou was done and began to approach the battlefield alone, Kokabiel fixed his grip on Akeno for more comfort and lowered himself just enough to try and take a closer look at the magus.
"Finally done wasting our time, Red?" Freed couldn't hold back the contempt on his voice.
"Sorry for keeping you waiting." Sarcasm rolled off Shirou's tongue and Kokabiel chuckled at how Freed looked upset. "I had to deal with some things, you know. Like not giving you the chance to get a drop on us or anything."
Swing the Fused Sword to the side to then hold them with his two hands, Freed looked annoyed. "I barely know you but you are always ruining my parade."
Spreading his feet apart with his right foot on the front, Shirou held his sword high with one hand in the blade and another closer to the tip aiming for Freed's heart. "And I will do it again, this time for good."