Everything was ready.
The day before departure, Waver brought Seiji Fujiwara to the core area of the Clock Tower.
This was where the Council Hall of the Twelve Lords stood, the most concentrated seat of power in the entire Mage's Association.
The air was thick with mana, so dense it almost congealed into something tangible. Powerful protective runes were carved into the ancient walls, and beneath every floor tile, a lethal trap might lie waiting.
"Stay close to me, Seiji."
Waver's expression turned unusually grave, his voice dropping low. "This isn't a classroom. One wrong word here can get you killed. Every guard in this place is stronger than you and me combined."
"Yes, teacher."
Seiji followed behind him, head slightly lowered, his eyes carrying just the right measure of awe and tension before this center of power.
His body was faintly tensed, like some small-town official seeing the emperor for the first time.
They walked into an office known as the "Ceremonial Department."
This was where the Mage's Association handled all external affairs, including the supervision and authorization of "rituals" like the Holy Grail War.
Seated in the office was an elderly-looking magus, his hair combed without a strand out of place, a monocle over one eye. His aura was cold and rigid, as if he were a corpse that had just crawled out of an ancient tomb.
His surname was Barthomeloi, the Clock Tower's "Head of Aristocracy," the representative of the conservative faction.
"Lord El-Melloi II." Seeing Waver, the old magus merely lifted his eyelids with neither warmth nor coldness, his idea of a greeting. "Your application has been approved by the Council. Here is your 'Overseer' credential."
He took from a drawer a brooch engraved with the Clock Tower's emblem and pushed it across to Waver.
"As for him..." The old magus's gaze landed on Seiji like two cold probes, without the slightest courtesy. "An Auditor from the East, of unknown origin, wants to involve himself in 'Heaven's Feel'? Those old fools on the Council are getting more muddle-headed by the day. El-Melloi, is your department really so short on personnel?"
His words were laced with undisguised contempt, and clear dissatisfaction with Waver's habit of recruiting "talent without regard for convention."
Seiji's body trembled faintly, his head sinking even lower, as though too frightened by the pressure to speak.
"Lord Barthomeloi," Waver said, brows knitting, his tone hardening, "Seiji is an assistant I have personally vouched for. His talents are vital to this mission. And he is only acting as a 'Temporary Observer.' He will not directly intervene in the ritual. This is entirely within the rules."
"Hmph, the rules?"
The old magus gave a cold laugh. "In a place like Fuyuki City, the gap between 'Observer' and 'Participant' is no more than a sheet of paper. If he dies, he dies for nothing."
Despite his words, he reluctantly produced a parchment document from another drawer.
"Sign, boy." He tossed the document in front of Seiji as if bestowing charity. "Sign this 'waiver of life and death,' and if you get eaten by dogs in Fuyuki City, it'll have nothing to do with us at the Clock Tower."
"Yes... yes!"
Seiji hastily picked up the quill pen and signed his name on the document in a slightly trembling hand.
His pitiful display of "cowardice and incompetence" only deepened the contempt in the old magus's eyes.
Once the signature was done, the old magus took a brass badge from a box and tossed it casually onto the desk.
"Take it and get out. Don't go dying out there and shaming our El-Melloi department."
"Thank you so very much, my lord." As if he'd been handed a treasure, Seiji carefully picked up the badge, cradled it in both hands, and respectfully stepped to one side.
It was at that moment that the office door swung open.
A man walked in, wearing a white suit, his long silver hair flowing down, his features so beautiful they bordered on the unearthly.
The moment he appeared, the temperature in the entire office seemed to drop several degrees.
It wasn't physical cold, but a pressure born of the gap between levels of existence.
Seiji's system instantly issued its highest-level alert.
[Warning! High-output mana signature detected! Target identified as one of the Clock Tower's Twelve Lords, Head of the Astronomy Department: Marisbury Animusphere!]
[Warning! Traces of a subordinate contract detected. Target has deep ties to a high-order mystical being (King Solomon)!]
This man was the one marked in his database as the "number one rival" of this Holy Grail War!
Marisbury seemed not to notice Seiji in the room. He walked straight to the desk, an elegant and distant smile on his face.
"Lord Barthomeloi, is the certificate for my 'Participant' status ready?"
"Of course, Lord Animusphere." The old magus's arrogance from a moment ago vanished, replaced by a deference that bordered on flattery.
He personally retrieved a lavish, gold-bordered document from a locked box and presented it with both hands.
"I wish you... every success."
"My thanks." Marisbury took the document, his gaze sweeping casually across it, and happened to land on Waver and Seiji.
"Oh? Isn't this Lord El-Melloi?" He smiled and nodded, the smile flawless yet utterly devoid of warmth. "You take an interest in this 'ritual' as well?"
"I'm only... going to fulfill my duty as an overseer." Waver's expression turned somewhat uneasy.
He and this Lord of the Astronomy Department belonged to different factions, and had never had much of a relationship.
The other man was the genuine genius and rising star of the magical world, while he himself had largely climbed to the position of Lord on the "credentials" of the Fourth Holy Grail War.
Marisbury's gaze shifted from Waver and settled on Seiji behind him.
That gaze was gentle on the surface, yet carried a piercing quality that seemed able to see straight through the soul.
Seiji instantly felt the immense pressure. He instinctively buried his head lower, his body beginning to tremble faintly, performing perfectly the bone-deep fear of a low-ranking magus before someone of higher station.
"And this is... your disciple?" Marisbury asked with interest.
"This is my assistant, Seiji Fujiwara," Waver answered for him. "A young man... with quite a gift in theory."
"Oh?" The corner of Marisbury's mouth curved into a meaningful arc. "Only 'in theory'? What a... pity, then."
He said no more, withdrew his gaze, and turned toward the door.
The instant he passed by Seiji's shoulder.
In a voice low as a sigh, audible only to the two of them, he murmured:
"...You hide it well, but... your 'scent' is too peculiar. Like a rat that doesn't belong to this world."
Seiji's pupils contracted sharply.
The hand he had tucked into his sleeve had his fingernails already digging deep into his palm.
Discovered?
No. Impossible.
He didn't see through my disguise.
He merely caught, through some beast-like intuition, the faint sense of "foreignness" in my soul, the part that doesn't fit this world.
This man's perception far exceeds what was described in the data!
Alarm bells were ringing in Seiji's mind, but his face still wore that same blank, bewildered expression, as if he hadn't understood a word, as if he had simply been overwhelmed by the other man's presence.
Marisbury didn't look back, the curve of his mouth deepening a touch, as he walked straight out of the office.
It wasn't until his back disappeared completely that Seiji slowly unclenched his fist. His palm was already slick with cold sweat.
That silent clash of a moment ago, soundless as it had been, had been more dangerous than any exchange of magecraft.
An interesting opponent...
A flicker of cold, bloodthirsty light flashed through the depths of Seiji's eyes.
He picked up the hard-won brass badge that signified his status as "Temporary Observer."
This badge was his... ticket into the hunting ground known as "Fuyuki City."
And the man from just now would be the largest obstacle he needed to eliminate first in this hunt.
"Let's go, Seiji." Waver's voice pulled him back from his thoughts. He clearly hadn't heard Marisbury's parting words.
"Yes, teacher."
Seiji raised his head, his face once again wearing that humble, harmless expression.
He followed Waver out of the office, out of the Clock Tower's center of power.
...
From Heathrow Airport in London to Narita Airport in Tokyo, and then by connecting flight to the region where Fuyuki City lay, it was a long and tedious journey.
The comfort of the first-class cabin did nothing to ease the anxiety in Waver Velvet's heart.
The whole way, he kept his brow furrowed, repeatedly poring over that file on Fuyuki City he had nearly worn through, as if trying to engrave the name of every street into his mind.